The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts
by ordinaryguy2
Summary: It's the day of the First Task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and the last people that Harry ever expected to be there to see him before he was to face the dragon was the Dursleys, or even the other revelations that had been revealed. H/Hr.
1. Chapter 1

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts**

**By Ordinaryguy2**

_-I thought I'd try my hand at a Harry Potter story. Hopefully you will like it enough to send a review. And even if you don't send a review, I hope you liked it._

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Harry followed behind his Head of House who was escorting him. As an explanation for this, she said that all of the Champions were allowed to see their families before the First Task. But it puzzled Harry as to who she could be referring to as the '_family members_' that had come to see him off, but decided to not ask as she had just a bit of a smile as if she were about to give him a pleasant surprise. What worried him was that he could only assume that this was a Tri-Wizard tradition for in case the worse happens, then the Champion had at least been able to see their family again before tragically dying. He was still having a hard time believing that he was being forced to compete.

At the thought of dying, as well as the terrible means by which his death would conclude, a terrible shiver went down his back, making him fall a further step behind Professor McGonagall. How could anyone put the Champions against dragons? They were students, and he was younger than the rest of the contestants by three years. Were they trying to get them all killed? Was there betting on how many of them would die or be horribly maimed? He wouldn't put it past Draco to have started a betting pool on something like that. At least the Weasley twins didn't include dying as one of the choices in their betting pool.

He was so deep into thoughts of his very possible upcoming demise that he almost crashed into his head of House when she came to an abrupt stop, still having to awkwardly put some of his momentum towards twisting to the side to keep from brushing against her backside. That would have not gone over well.

"Severus! What is the meaning of this?"

The sound of extreme outrage was the first thing to clue Harry in that something was very wrong. It didn't even take Harry a second as to know just how wrong things truly were.

The rotund frame of his uncle, Vernon Dursley, was extremely evident just behind the tall, thin frame of his potions professor, Severus Snape. Also in evidence was Harry's cousin, Dudley, who was poking a moving painting of a group of knights with a stick a bit further down the hall. His aunt Petunia was also there and had her nose pointed up as if to show she was above this '_freaky_' place, but her eyes betrayed her as they darted all over, drinking in every magical wonder that she could see even as she picked at her scalp.

It was Snape's sneer turning into more of a smirk that drew Harry's attention back to him. "You yourself mentioned that each '_champion_' were to have a brief visit with their family before the First Task in case the champions were not to survive. I thought Potter should have the same opportunity."

"Severus!" If she was angry before, now she was ready to spit nails. One of her cubs was going to be forcibly put in front of a dragon –a nesting dragon at that– for a contest in which he shouldn't even be competing. And in her opinion, anyone with half a brain had to know that Harry wouldn't have entered in the first place, but that, unfortunately, included a vast majority of the wizarding population. But Severus never seemed to need a reason to be cruel to Harry. "You know that is not what I meant, you-you-you **fowl, greasy-haired git**!"

Minerva McGonagall's bombshell outburst caught everyone off-guard, leaving Snape, the Dursleys, one third year Ravenclaw, a couple first year Hufflepuffs, as well as Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil who were just passing by, with their mouths gapping.

"It's bad enough with the abuse you heap on him every year, in and out of class, constantly sniveling about how much he is like his father, when anyone with a mote of intelligence can see that he is actually more like his mother!" she continued to rant, letting all her bottled up frustrations over the years pour out against this unbelievable, bitter, antagonistic man. "And maybe that is why you dislike him so! Because of Lily! And all because she became Lily Potter instead of Lily Snape! Well it's over and done with so get over it already! Because from now on I will be making sure that you treat him like a proper student! In fact, from now on I will be making sure that you are treating all the students with the proper respect they deserve! I don't care what Albus says anymore! You will be answering to me from now on! So by tomorrow you had better have changed your teaching style to be more like Slughorn's or you are out of here! And trust me, I will be checking on you! And if Albus interferes with my judgment again, I'll take my many findings to the Daily Prophet! Then all the parents of all the children you have bullied and hindered can join forces to take you away from here! Hopefully in chains!"

Snape was starting to shake as his face began to purple. The magical buildup around him was starting to become visible when a quick spell from behind knocked him out.

The small frame of Professor Flitwick stood with a toothy grin behind Snape's crumpled form, twirling his wand with a surprising amount of speed that would have left a baton twirler envious. "I thought I'd stun him before he burst a blood vessel. That's how Milton the Obnoxious died, you know." Looking down on his fellow teacher, he began to tisk. "I think I shall bring him to the hospital wing so that Madame Pomfrey can examine him. Can't be too careful now, can we?"

McGonagall eyed the half-Goblin teacher as she tried to determine his reasoning. After all, Flitwick always had a reason for the things that he did. It was usually just a matter of determining the method to his erratic behavior. At times he could be as bad as Dumbledore, but his methods and results were much more to her approval. "I agree, but Poppy is stationed in the medical tent for the duration of the First Task."

Flitwick looked up at her, and shared a gin. "Then Severus will get some well-needed rest until she returns to the hospital wing, won't he?" He chuckled at his deviousness and shot her a wink. "Shame that he'll be missing the First Task." He managed a forlorn look as he gave a shake of his head.

Minerva brought her hand up to her face just in time to hide her smile, but quickly had herself under control again. "Very well, please do so then. It's unbecoming for a teacher to be sprawled out on the hall floor after all."

"I quite agree," Flitwick said with a slight chortle. "It's too bad we don't take House points from teachers. Though I shudder to think how far into the red the Slytherins would fall." Then with a quick levitation spell, he took the air bound Snape away amid a round of clapping from the wide-eyed students who had seen the soon to be legendary event.

"That's enough, students," McGonagall stated, blush beginning to color her cheeks as she thought about her impulsive actions in front of the students.

"I can't believe Lily was ever friends with him," said an unexpected voice.

Gaping at his aunt Petunia, Harry managed to say in a strangled voice, "Snape was friends with my mother? How is that even possible?"

She froze for a moment as she realized the knowledge she had revealed to her nephew. She shuffled uneasily on her feet as she twisted a stand of her hair with her fingers. Finally she shrugged, as if the information wasn't that important. "He introduced her to the Wizarding world as you call it." She then studied her fingers for a moment before flicking whatever was on them away. "He lived near us at our childhood home in Spinner's End. His father was a brute of a man and often drunk. His mother was skinny like him and had the same haughty, hook-like nose held high despite the evident bruising that was frequently seen on her." She frowned as she gave her hair an extra tug. "That surprised me since Snape had told us that it was his mother that was the fr-, er, magical in the family."

Harry managed to nod as his aunt continued in her role as a natural gossip.

"He and Lily were about nine when they met. She was trying to figure out her abilities out in a nearby glen when that _Snape_," she said, stressing the name with extra venom, "began spying on her, then finally teaching her some of his fr-, um, magical tricks."

While this was all news to Harry, Vernon could not have cared less now that he had his freak of a nephew in front of him again. He wanted to smack him across the face for being the reason he had been brought here, but he didn't want to be on the business end of one of the many wands that were about. Even so, Vernon did know that words could inflict damage in place of a strike to the face or a stomp beneath his foot. "Boy, this professor of yours tells us that you've gotten yourself into quite a predicament, that you've signed yourself up for a dangerous contest that you were not eligible for."

"I. Didn't. Enter. Myself." Harry stood firm and refused to tremble in front of his uncle. Not here at Hogwarts.

"Then you probably got one of your older freaky friends to do it for you," he said casually with a wave of his hand.

Harry had flinched when Vernon had moved his hand, then felt embarrassed that he had reacted when clearly his uncle wasn't even about to hit him with so many witnesses around. The remark about his friends had scored a hit though. Most of his friends had abandoned him as soon as Harry's name had come out of the Goblet of Fire. Ron had been a total prat; often bad-mouthing Harry within hearing range. Once the ginger turncoat could be heard bragging to have actually done many of the feats over their first three years that were accredited to Harry.

Even the Weasley twins and the other members of the Gryffindor quidditch were giving him a wider berth now that he was persona non grata in the castle. Even his dorm mates had shut him out. All except for Neville. Neville ignored the grumblings of his housemates as he continued to talk and sit with the one that the rest had ostracized.

And then there was Hermione. She had planted herself at his side as soon as she knew that he was in trouble. With her at his side, he couldn't care less about the rest.

Straightening himself, the teen took a deep breath before taking a determined stand against his uncle. "Once again, uncle, you show just how ignorant you are to what the facts really are." He glanced out at the students still milling around. "Not that you are alone in that category."

Vernon fumed at the brat's impudence in daring to speak back to him. "Don't be giving me any of your lip, boy!"

"I wasn't," the teen said through clenched teeth. "This was supposed to be my chance to enjoy a nice, quiet year at school. A chance to sit back, relax and do my studies. Maybe even get my courage up to ask out one of the girls I'm interested in. Instead, I'm stuck in some deadly medieval tournament against my will."

He could feel the magic starting to build up around him. Harry worked quickly on slamming down on his emotions as he refused to break down here in an open hallway in front of all those present. Silently, he damned Vernon and Snape together. Taking another breath in, he idly wondered if he had somehow wandered into the presence of a boggart, but quickly dismissed it when he realized that Malfoy, Snape and Voldemort would have been present too for that to have qualified.

"So was that Snap fellow telling that truth that you have to face some huge monster all alone? Because that is the only reason that I agreed to come to this freaky place."

"Enough, Vernon! Harry has more than enough things on his plate today. He doesn't need you coming down on him, too."

Both Vernon and his nephew looked back at Petunia with not a little bit of surprise. She gave her husband a reprehending eye that stood out despite her growing disarray of hair being caused by her scratching vigorously at the back of her head.

"Professor McGonagall?" spoke a blond Ravenclaw student. "Perhaps it might be more prudent to use one of the Hogwart's conference rooms instead of the hall for a family meeting?" even as she tapped on the door to the room right behind her.

"A good suggestion, Miss Lovegood. Five points to Ravenclaw for a thoughtful solution to a… distasteful situation."

Casting a simple spell, the conference room door opened up to which Petunia marched right through. "Come along, Vernon, Dudley." Then after a pause she added, "Harry."

Minerva McGonagall paused in the doorway.

"Actually, Mr. Dursley, why don't I send you and your son to partake of some refreshments while Petunia and Harry talk?"

"You mean '_food_'?" called oud Dudley who had lost complete interest in the moving paintings for now.

McGonagall was a bit surprised at just how dim Dudley seemed, and she has had to work with the likes of Ron Weasley, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle on a regular basis. It made her want to weep for the future. "Yes, food, Mr. Dursley." Turning to the hall, she hailed one of her Gryffindor students. "Miss Brown, I would like you to do something for me."

Lavender Brown quickly came forward, hoping to overhear anything to add to the gossip mill that was her life blood. A chance to obtain raw data from a muggle source about the early history of the secretive Potter drove her to the front despite the disgusting stares she was receiving from both male Dursleys. "Yes, Professor McGonagall?"

"I would like you to take Mr. Dursley and his son to the kitchen for a bite to eat. I'm sure the house-elves will be very accommodating, as you are well aware."

Lavender blushed lightly, having been caught by her Head of House having a late night snack in the kitchen with an older Hufflepuff student she had been dating less than a fortnight ago. "Sure, professor."

Dudley was quick to follow after Lavender who had been joined by her friend Parvati, while Vernon hesitated only until he noted the wand that Harry held clenched tightly in his hand. When Petunia waved for him to go, he decided to relent, but only after delivering a final glare back at his nephew, he went after his son and the two attractive, young witches.

With some hesitancy of his own, Harry followed his aunt inside. Stopping just inside the door, he watched as she walked over to the table and braced herself against it with both hands just before her body seemed to shudder for a minute.

Harry glanced over at McGonagall, but the only answer she gave him was to motion with her head to go over to his aunt, then followed that action by putting up some privacy wards. With reservations, he slowly closed the distance between them. Finally, standing right next to her, he put a hand onto her shoulder. "Aunt Petunia?"

He had not expected her to whirl toward him and envelope him in a hug that was almost akin to that of those given by Hermione. It was only as his shoulder seemed to become damp that he realized that his aunt was crying on his shoulder. This type of unusual situation had never happened to him before. Glancing back at his professor, she motioned that he should reach around his aunt and pat her gently on the back. He raised his eyebrows in alarm as if to indicate to her '_Are you serious!_' to which she made a more determined motion for him to do as she had suggested. Letting out a somewhat frustrated sigh, the teen wizard embraced his aunt and patted her on the back to which her response was to sob even more and louder, too.

Harry was trying to decide if the dragon was preferable to this situation, when his aunt started to separate from him. Professor McGonagall finally came forward after transfiguring a migrating dust bunny into a handkerchief to provide her with.

Having wiped away the tears and the minor amount of makeup that she wore, Harry's aunt blew her nose three times before taking a deep breath. "Oh, Harry, I've done so much wrong by you," she managed to say through her sniffles, all while still holding on to him.

Harry tried to think of something to say, but couldn't for the life of him think what it should be. She had done wrong by him. He'd been forced to sleep in the cupboard under the stairs, often locked inside for long periods of time. He was starved and given tasks around the house that no one his age should be doing. He'd been beaten by Vernon and Dudley, and she had done nothing to stop it. She'd even punished Harry when he had done better than her Duddy-kins at school. Then there was the verbal abuse and the lies about his parents. The neglect. Nothing of his own; just worn out hand-me-downs from his over-large cousin.

"I had wanted to come here so bad as a child. I even wrote to that headmaster of yours, to beg to let me come."

Harry blinked in surprise. His aunt had wanted to come to Hogwarts when she was a kid? She had wanted to be one of the '_freaks_'?

"It seems so unfair that your mother, Lily, got to go and I didn't. Even though I never displayed any signs of magic, my heart wanted me to go to Hogwarts. Oh, how I wish I could explain it better than that. Just blaming it all on jealousy doesn't seem right."

She was holding him tightly against her chest again, much to his consternation, while running her fingers through his hair in what he could only assume was meant to be a mothering manner.

"Um, Aunt Petunia, what are you doing to my hair?"

"Hmm?" She glanced down at her hand with a bit of surprise. "Oh, sorry, Harry. It's just all those tiny creatures fluttering around your head and getting into your hair. I don't see how your can stand them."

"Ah, yeah, uh, don't take this the wrong way, but… to what creatures are you referring?"

She leaned back as she pulled at something in his hair. "These things, whatever they are," she said, putting her hand near his face, with her fingers pinched together. "They are practically swarming your head."

Harry stared at her fingers for a moment, but before he could tell his aunt that there was nothing between her fingers, someone else spoke up.

"You can see them, too? Merlin's beard! You can even touch them?! I've only heard legends of people capable of doing that!"

Three sets of eyes turned to someone that they hadn't realized was in the room with them.

"Miss Lovegood! What do you think you are doing there? This is meant to be a special time so that-"

"Hold it, professor," the blonde Ravenclaw spoke, hold her hand up for silence. "This is extremely more important." She then turned to the only other woman in the room. "Now, Mrs. Harry Potter's aunt, how long have you been able to see Wrackspurts?"

Harry snapped out of his bewilderment at this strange Ravenclaw who he thought was a year younger than him. Ron had mentioned her once when their paths crossed and said her name was Looney. It had stuck in Harry's head as he reflected on the unusual names that magical parents gave their children – Draco, Pansy, Millicent and Blaise, to name a few. But he hadn't dwelt on it long once he remembered that one of his closest friends was named Hermione, a name taken from a Shakespearian play. "Wait, are you saying that my aunt is really holding onto something?"

Now it was Petunia's turn to be alarmed as she held her hand farther out in front of her. "You mean you can't see these-these-what did you call them?"

"Wrackspurts!"

"Whatever they are!" Petunia exclaimed with growing alarm. "What are they?"

"Oh, they aren't very dangerous," the Ravenclaw stated as a means to calm the woman down. "They are… well, they are believed to be the cause of general confusion in whose ever head they are infesting, as well as carry off random thoughts and whispers of them to each other and anyone else who happens to hear them." She then leaned in closer to examine Petunia's captive. "Hmm, as far as I can tell it's a-typical for a Wrackspurt in this region, but my Sight isn't the sharpest, leaving it rather blurry."

"It's not blurry at all to me," Petunia spoke with wonder at this revelation.

"Really," the Ravenclaw said with growing excitement. "Could I get you to draw a picture of it for me? Daddy would love the opportunity to print a clearly defined picture of a Wrackspurt in the next edition of The Quibbler. It's sure to replace the current front headline of the rising tension between redcaps and vampires."

Feeling more and more overwhelmed, Petunia decided she needed a new starting point so she could collect some of herself. "Let's back up a moment, please. Now I'm Harry's aunt – Petunia Dursley. And your name is…?"

"Luna Lovegood, of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Lovegood," Luna stated matter-of-factly. "Daughter of Master Spell Crafter Selene Lovegood, my mother, and editor of The Quibbler, Xenophilus Lovegood, my father. Now back to my original question: '_how long have you been able to see Wrackspurts?_' And how are you able to touch them like that? Wrackspurts are metaphysical creatures by nature and are not really connected to the physical world. It shouldn't be possible to do what you are doing."

"But… I _**am**_ touching it," the older woman spoke quietly, as she began to consider letting the tiny struggling thing caught between her fingers go.

"It's okay to let it go. It won't go far."

It was with some relief that Petunia did just that, freeing whatever had been trapped between her fingertips, then began wiping her fingers against the side of her light dress to clean them. Her eyes kept track of the so-called '_Wrackspurt_' following it as it headed back towards her nephew.

"Harry, it's coming back towards you."

Harry's eyes widened in alarm but couldn't see whatever it was.

"Don't worry about it," Luna responded. "I think Harry might have been spelled to attract them. I use radishes for earrings to keep the regular ones away, but I don't think that will work for Harry. Harry has one of the largest Wrackspurt infestations I've ever seen, and they haven't seemed to have harmed him much besides confounding him a bit." She paused, and tilted her head. "I think they may be using him as a breeding ground."

"What?!" While he was relieved to hear that these things were most likely benign, except for the confounding part, but he really didn't relish the thought of being some creatures' breeding ground. "How do I get rid of them?" the sound of desperation was very obvious.

Luna seemed to be slipping back into her more dazed expression, making Harry feel a bit more anxious. "Your aunt seems to be doing a good job of clearing them away. But that evidently won't keep them from coming back. Perhaps if she were to see what was attracting them to you?"

"An excellent idea, Miss Lovegood," McGonagall proclaimed, as she stepped forward to reassert her role in the group. "Mrs. Dursley, if you would perhaps comb through Harry's hair as if inspecting for lice. Maybe you would see something that would give us a clue as to what was going on." The Transfiguration professor then turned the used handkerchief into a low stool for Harry to sit on. Harry reluctantly acquiesced with a heavy embarrassed sigh.

Petunia stepped behind him, and, with a tad of reluctance, began the hair searching protocol, swatting aside Wrackspurt as she went.

She let out a whimper as she began to flick the invisible critters away. "I don't know why, but they seem even more revolting now that I know that all of you can't see them."

"Don't forget that most wizards and witches can't even touch or feel them either," Luna added, helpfully.

"Yeah, what up with that?" Harry asked, trying to distract himself from what was going on.

"That is something that I plan to look into personally." Professor McGonagall was slowly circling Harry and Petunia while casting a fleeting look over to Luna from time to time as if trying to solve a bothersome puzzle. "With abilities like this, I don't know why you weren't accepted into Hogwarts as a child."

At hearing this proclamation, Petunia froze. "You mean to say that I really should have attended here after all?" A myriad of feelings tried to express themselves on her face as she took this in.

"Most likely, but I will have to look around to find an answer, maybe even examine your magical core, if you have one."

Petunia gave a reluctant nod before resuming her inspection of Harry's head. "Oh, this is odd."

"Did you find something?" inquired McGonagall, as she peered over Harry's aunt's shoulder.

"There's a… a metal rod embedded in the side of his head."

"What?" Harry's hands flew up to his scalp, his fingers running through his hair.

"Oh my!" Petunia jumped back. "His fingers went right through those Wrack-thingees!"

"What part of metaphysical did you not understand?" Luna asked politely. "And they are called Wrackspurts."

"Was he able to touch the rods?" McGonagall asked, steering them back to the subject at hand.

"I… I'm not sure. Those Wrackspurt things passing through his fingers distracted me. Harry, give me your hand so that I run it over this rod that I found, please."

He relented.

She moved two of his fingertips over an area two inches above his ear and just an inch forward. "Do you feel that?"

"I don't think so."

"I'm not surprised. Your fingers went right through them." She then placed her fingers on the rod; flinching when she actually made contact. "Can you feel me touching that?" she managed to say, barely able to control the surprise and shock in her own voice.

"No. What does that mean?"

Professor McGonagall moved right in front of Harry. "It means someone may have compromised your ability to compete in the tournament."

"So then I won't have to compete?" he said, hope plain in his voice.

His Head of House bit her lip for a moment. "I'm afraid you still will, as to not compete may result in the Goblet of Fire deciding that you forfeit, meaning you would lose you magic and possibly your life."

The teen groaned as he shook his head. "Damned if I do, damned if I don't. Just great."

"Could we extract the rods?" Luna queried.

McGonagall nodded, "I was thinking along those lines myself." She redirected her next statement to Petunia. "Can you describe what you can see of the rod?"

Moving some of his unruly hair out of the way, Petunia tapped an area around his head. "It's as thick as a pencil, red, and sticking about five centimeters out of the skull." She squinted as she leaned in closer. "There seems to a capital A on the head."

"Oh dear," was what everyone in the room could hear Professor McGonagall say.

"You know what it is then?" Luna asked politely.

The Hogwart's teacher looked as if she had been bludgeoned. "Y-yes. My-my husband had been researching on these before he had been killed. They're called repressing rods. It was one of the more despicable things that Grindelwald had been using while experimenting on people."

"Experimenting?" He really didn't like the sound of that.

"Yes, my husband, Jonas, he'd been working on undoing the damage to Grindelwald's victims. Just before he'd been killed, Jonas had stumbled onto the rods, which most witches and wizards couldn't even see to know were even there."

"Ok," Harry said with a wavering voice. "Two questions, what is it doing to me, and can they be removed?"

Taking a moment to dab at her eyes, she cleared her throat. "The one that your aunt describes interferes with memory and focus."

"And to get it out?"

"That was the most frustrating part for Jonas, finding something that could pull it out, as most things pass right through it."

"So if we can get it extracted, he'll be fine?" Luna asked to clarify.

"As I understood his notes, then yes, it's just the matter of getting it out of him. It's phased so it won't leave a hole in him."

"Then Petunia should be able to extract it."

"Me!?" his aunt looked aghast at the very idea.

Harry nodded. "It's got to be you." He took her hand before she could bolt. "As a child, you dreamed of using magic; now you have the opportunity to do something most wizards and witches could never hope to."

"But what if this hurts you?"

He closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. "I'm about to be forced to fight against a dr- vicious beast." He tried not to, but he glanced to his Head of House who had caught his slip of tongue. "I have a very good chance of being killed or maimed for life in the next hour; you pulling this dampening rod out of my head would very likely give me a much better chance to live."

She wiped away a tear before agreeing. "Please, tell me if it hurts at all so I can stop."

He took just a moment to reflect on how unusually nice his aunt was behaving, but knew it was not something he could dwell on right now. "Alright, but we have to hurry. I don't know how much time we have until I have to be in the Champions' Tent."

Taking a deep breath, Petunia grasped the end of the rod and pulled. Gasped at the relative ease in which it slid out, then was even more surprised when it turned out to be over thirty centimeters long.

"D-did that hurt?"

"It's out? I didn't feel it at all!"

"Oh, thank goodness!" she said with relief.

Meanwhile, McGonagall had transfigured some old pamphlets into a deep tray, and began sending several spells on it. "This should hold the rod. I will like to have one of my friends in the Department of Mysteries examine it."

Carefully, Petunia set the rod onto the tray. "Oh, it didn't pass through it. I thought it would. And those Wrackspurt things are fluttering around it."

"Containing them is easy once you know the right spells," said McGonagall. "Being able to remove the rods from a subject, that is not so easy."

"So Harry's all right then?" his aunt asked.

"To be sure," the professor began, "I would like you to do a complete examination of Harry to see if there are any more rods on his body.

As the search continued, Petunia had discovered another red rod on the other side of his head and quickly removed it. On a further examination, she found seven black rods sticking out of his spine. These, McGonagall informed, dampened a person magical core. As each black rod were removed, a sudden influx of magical energy would flood back into Harry to fill the void that had been there. There were also seven blue rods that surrounded his heart that McGonagall said diminished his ability to recognize love.

"That's everything then."

"Very good then," McGonagall acknowledged even as she took the collecting tray from Luna who had been rolling the pins back and forth even though she couldn't see them. "I'm still concerned with the way that you described his scar. You say it's like looking at something evil."

Petunia shivered. "It's more like something evil was looking out from it at me." She paused and gave him a look of guilt. "Not that I am suggesting that you are evil, Harry."

Harry was quiet, making everyone look at him.

"Harry?"

"It's not a rod? You're sure?"

"I… it doesn't look like the others. In fact all this is so new to me that I have no idea what it could be," she went on to explain while raising her arms in a gesture of helplessness.

"Can you… can you try to remove it? Pull it out like you did with the rods?"

McGonagall raised her hand to stop them. "Harry, this may be too dangerous. We've already done a number of things to you that we can't determine how it has affected you. The thing in your scar we can have looked at after the First Task."

Harry shook his head. His thoughts were moving a lot clearer after the first two rods had been removed. "Professor, I got this scar when Voldemort tried to kill me only to have the killing curse return and kill him instead. If there is any part of him in my scar, then I want him evicted."

Both women paled at the very idea that there could anything connected to Voldemort inside the young boy's scar.

"I'll do it, Harry," his aunt said in a quiet voice. Then engulfed him in a hug. "But, please, don't let this be the thing that kills you. I have so much to make up to you."

"What has happened to you?" he asked, as he stepped back to look at her. "I've never seen you like this before."

"You never said," came Luna's voice.

"What was that?" Harry spoke, taking a second to study the blonde Ravenclaw. A majority of the time she seemed to have a dazed or daydreaming expression on her face. Now he had to wonder if that had something to do with her claim of having the Sight. But then there was the fact that she carried her wand tucked behind her ear like one in the Muggle world would a pencil and wore radishes for earrings. Her clothes showed some odd wear and tear that made him think of Dudley's old clothes that he had to wear. And then there was the fact that she wasn't wearing any shoes.

"It's my guess that whatever change happened to her that is allowing her to see and touch things that she couldn't before, did so just before she started noticing the Wrackspurts. And you never said what that was," she said quietly as if she were explaining it to sweet little children.

"Oh!" Petunia put her hand to her mouth. "I think I might know."

"And what is that, Mrs. Dursley?" the deputy headmistress asked.

"It was right after we'd walked through the Hogwarts gates. I had stumbled over something, but when I looked I couldn't see anything. But I could see the magical barrier at that point. I just figured that you had to be on this side of the barrier to see it. But that awful, crude, giant of a man-"

"His name is Hagrid, and he's actually quite nice," Harry stated stiffly.

"… yes, him. He had quite a few of the Wrackspurts fluttering all over him. I just assumed it was considered a normal thing. Like the wizarding equivalent of an infestation of fleas or something. I mean, really, how was I to know?"

"Yes," nodded McGonagall with a growing frown. "I suppose I can see your point, Mrs. Dursley. And that just raises more questions in my head. But they are questions that will have to be addressed later. And we are running out of time. That being said, I would like the three of you to promise me you will not tell anyone what went on in here until I've had a chance to investigate further. And that includes not telling the Headmaster."

Harry's brows furrowed. "But-"

"If you are going to have anything done with your scar, it had best be soon. I have to get you to the First Task shortly."

His face turned to one of resolve. "Yeah. Let's do this."

It had turned out to be a good thing that McGonagall had placed the privacy wards. The screams that had come when Petunia began removing the entity from Harry would have sent everyone in the castle running either towards them or far away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Harry staggered into the Champions' Tent aided by Luna Lovegood and a feather-light charm. The rods that his aunt had somehow extracted from him, while making him feel more energized, had also made him feel rather gangly like a young colt learning to walk for the first time. But that thing she did with his scar! That hurt as bad, if not worse, then when the basilisk had bit his arm. But the weirdest part had been regaining consciousness only to discover his aunt draped over his chest, crying hysterically.

After McGonagall had checked Harry over, they all had to compose themselves (Harry would later say that he saw tears coming down his Head of House's face). They had to separate from Petunia after they retrieved Vernon and Dudley from the Hogwarts kitchen. Somewhere along the way, Vernon had acquired a '_Potter Stinks_' badge that Petunia berated him for before making him throw it away much to his chagrin. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were again conscripted by McGonagall; this time to help the Dursleys find their seats as well as to keep them from any obtrusive bad behavior from anyone that had a problem with them being present at a magical event. Dudley seemed extremely happy to have the two girls along, though his father was less than thrilled with the company of witches. Harry had caught a glimpse of Ron, but the Weasley had stuck his nose up in the air and mouthed the word '_cheat_' before stomping away.

As his eyes adjusted to the darker lit tent, Harry would swear that he could still feel the power pouring into his magical core, though it had finally started to taper off, much to his relief. Still, I did have an effect on him. He found he could sense the magic in the material in the tent, from the spell work for it to set up to even the water repellant runes sewn into the edges of the fabric. It wasn't very obvious to him, and he had no idea how it was all done, but the very fact that he could sense most of it was amazing to him.

On the far side of the tent, Viktor Krum stood solemnly staring off into the distance, but with his extra senses, Harry could see the Bulgarian Quidditch star's magic pulse around him as the Durmstrang champion meditated, gathering it in slowly like a sponge.

The Hufflepuff Cedric Diggory, who Harry and many others considered the true Hogwarts champion, had his magic flaring around him in nervous energy as he paced back and forth. Harry did manage to make out the barest amount of movement around Cedric's head; it took Harry just a moment to come to the conclusion that he had just seen the barest glimpse of a wrackspurt. To this, Harry determined that he had inherited at least a bit of his aunt's newfound abilities.

It was the gasp from the Beauxbatons champion drew his immediate attention to her, only to see that she was gapping at him. He took the moment to gape back. Fleur Delacour's magic hung about her in the form of a flaming Human-sized predatory bird that was at the moment very unsure of itself as it regarded him.

"I should be going, Harry Potter." Luna's statement drew him back from the staring contest he had inadvertently started with the young Veela. "It has been a very interesting first meeting."

"Uh, yeah, you could say that," he said, managing an unruly grin. "Thanks for the help. If you ever need help with something sometime, I'd love to try return the favor."

She nodded serenely. "That's nice. Perhaps I could interview you for The Quibbler after the Task."

Harry's eyebrows rose with trepidation. "What is that? A newspaper?" At her curt nod, he had to keep himself from hyperventilating. "You write for a newspaper?" It was then that he remembered that she had mentioned that her father was an editor. He let out a groan. One of the last things he needed was for his secrets to be spilled out for all the Wizarding world to read.

She seemed immediately aware of his concerns, though the dazed look on her face did not show it. "Not to worry, Harry Potter. I would not write about anything you wouldn't want written. You would have final approval of anything printed."

Harry then realized that he could somehow tell that she was speaking the truth. "Um, right then, if I survive this Task, you and I can work on the details for an interview, I guess."

Nodding, Luna turned and skipped out of the tent as if without a care in the world. Harry found that he was more than a bit jealous of her, both for her carefree attitude, as well as the fact she could at least leave.

Harry had been leaning against a tent pole, about to turn and face the others when he heard a familiar voice quietly whisper his name.

Harry stumbled forward and worked at opening the tent flaps. It was indeed Hermione, and she instantly grabbed onto him in desperation. Harry returned that furious hug with one of his own. He would not have been a bit surprised it they could have felt each other's hearts beating in their chests.

"I've been so worried about you, Harry! Where have you been?" she whispered, panic clearly able to be heard in her tone.

He breathed in the scent of her hair and let out a calming sigh. "The Champions have all been given a chance to visit with their family before they have to risk their lives in this murderous contest. Snape decided to bring the Dursleys."

"That's Professor Sn—Wait! He did what?!" She knew about his so-called relatives. She knew that Harry hadn't told her everything of what went on in the Dursley household, but Ron rarely thought to hide what he had seen when he and his brothers had gone to liberate Harry. The door to his room locked several times over with a cat-flap at the bottom of the door to provide him with food and water. And poor Hedwig, locked up in her birdcage. Both bird and boy were entirely too thin. And the callouses on Harry's hands were more like those of a man who worked in construction.

"It somehow turned out all right. Flitwick even stunned Snape and carted him away to sleep it off in the Hospital wing."

"That's Professor Flit—Oh my, he didn't! Oh, now I know you are messing with me, Harry." She went to move away, but Harry held onto her tightly.

"No, I'm serious. Well, not that Sirius, but you know what I mean."

"But, oh that means Professor Flitwick will be in serious trouble. And don't start with the Sirius jokes, Harry."

Harry chuckled as he patted her on the back. "He's gonna be fine. Professor McGonagall was right there and more than approved of his actions against the git."

"That's Professor Git, Harry."

They laughed and hugged even harder.

"Hermione, I don't know what I'd do without you."

She blushed at this, but didn't let go. "Thank you, Harry. A girl likes to be appreciated."

Holding her like that, he was becoming very reluctant on letting her go. "It's more than that. In fact, I was wondering something, Hermione."

"Yes?" She seemed to be just as reluctant to letting him go.

"I was wondering if you would like to go with me to Hogsm-"

FLASH!

While using his body to shield Hermione, Harry twisted and fired off a quick reducto. The spell flew true, destroying the device that had caused the flash.

Rita Skeeter, the Daily Prophet news reporter, stood next to her cameraman who was now holding a camera that had been cleanly sliced into two as if it had been made of butter. Various loose pieces of the camera fell onto the floor of the tent, as did the destroyed bits of film.

"How-how dare you!" Skeeter began to harp.

"What did you think you were doing?" retorted Harry. "Did you even think of how high tensions are in here right now? How could you not think that one of us would react to you two just surprising us like that! You could have been accidently killed! And it would have been your own fault!" Meanwhile the cameraman looked like he was about to wet himself, or pass out, or both, as he let the two halves of the camera fall from his hands and onto the tent floor. "You two aren't supposed to be in here, either, are you?" Harry quickly surmised.

Rita was blushing furiously, angry at this little upstart. But she managed to remind herself that she needed to try get an interview from him, and hopefully the young witch that had been in his arms. A muggle-born witch, too, if Rita judged correctly. Oh, how she wished that photo hadn't been destroyed, as it would have been perfect for the front cover of the next Daily Prophet edition. And yet that spell, the precision and speed in which Harry sent that reducto made Rita reconsider whether she wanted to be in the same tent as him, and was also making her reconsider exactly what type of article she wanted to write about him. All in all, she hadn't felt this flummoxed since trying to get the goods on Mad-Eye Moody.

To her surprise, her rescue came in the form of Dumbledore and the other two headmasters, and Ludo Bagman. "Ms. Skeeter? You and your cameraman are not allowed in the Champions' Tent."

"Sorry. Took a wrong corner somewhere. We were just leaving." Rita rushed toward the tent opening, dragging her cameraman to whatever relative safety that lay outside.

"She went off in a hurry," chuckled Bagman, as he put a purple, silk sack he'd been carrying under his arm.

Karkaroff bared his yellow teeth. "A woman like that never leaves until she has what she wants." He paused before looking over the contestants, his eyes at last settling on Harry. "Or feels her life is at risk."

Harry met his eyes, not faltering until he felt a slight tickling in his brain.

Before Harry could think to call '_foul_', Dumbledore stepped neatly between them. "Igor, do we need to have another private chat?"

The Durmstrang headmaster was clearly cowed, as he slowly backed away, then abruptly marched across the tent to where Krum stood still as a statue, unconcerned about any difficulties his headmaster was experiencing.

Madame Maxime had made it over to the side of her school's champion, and seemed slightly amused at the bravado of her colleagues. Seeing how lightly she moved on her feet, Harry began to suspect that the half-Giant Headmistress used a feather-light charm on herself.

"Harry, are you all right?" Hermione asked, taking ahold of his sleeve.

Dumbledore responded before Harry could say a word. "Miss Granger, what are you doing here? I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Hermione's words caught in her throat even as she let go of Harry's sleeve. She turned away before Harry could see the tears that would soon be coming.

"Wait!" Harry grabbed a hold of her hand, and gently tugged her back to him before she could exit the tent. "Hermione, I want-"

"Mr. Potter," interrupted in the clear, strong voice of Albus Dumbledore. "We are on a schedule. It's important that we-"

"Well, this is important to me, old man!" Harry barked, much to the surprise of everyone. "And since I'm the one being forced to risk my life to compete, and you haven't done anything to get me out of it, you will give me the few minutes I need before putting my life on the line for this stupid, insane contest!"

Karkaroff look ready to say something completely derogatory, but Dumbledore merely raised a staying hand.

"Very well, Harry. But, please, do not be long."

Harry quickly turned to his closest friend. "Sorry about that," he said to her in a much quieter and much calmer tone than he felt at that moment.

Hermione looked at him as if a bombshell had gone off. "Harry, you can't talk to the he-"

"Shh." He held a finger to her lips. "I don't have a lot of time. As for what I want to ask you…Sorry, I didn't want to ask you here, but… Look, I don't know much about feelings and all that having grown up in the Dursley home."

Another interruption came from Dumbledore. "Harry, perhaps now is not the time to discuss certain facts about-"

Harry whirled around. "Stuff it, old man! This is my moment right now so leave off!"

He took a moment to glare his headmaster down, and too his surprise, Dumbledore backed away, and after a moment nodded for Harry to go on.

With a shaky breath, Harry turned back to Hermione. He ignored the shock in her eyes; instead, he tried to focus on what he was trying to ask her. Unable to help himself, he nervously scratched at the back of his unruly hair. "Sorry about that again. But anyway… I… this is so not how I wanted to have this talk with you. But I have a monstrous encounter coming up so…" He cleared his throat. "We've spent quite a bit of time together recently. On a bit of a side-note, thank you for helping me to save my skin in the damn, bloody tournament."

"Language, Harry," she said just above a whisper. "And you don't have to thank me; that's the sort of things friends do for one another."

The teenage boy winced a little at that. "Um, yeah, that not what I meant to say. I mean, I do thank you, it's just… what I'm trying to say is that with everything going on, I've had my eyes opened, I guess you could say." Gently, he reached out to take ahold of her two small hands. "I know I have to go out there and fight… some horrible creature," he managed to amend before anyone could pick up that he already knew about the dragons. "-that the lunatics in charge of these events have picked out." He gave her a slight smile that she shared a bit at his jab at the Tournament officials. "I know it could go really badly for me. But if I manage to survive this bloody Task-" He quickly raised a finger to her lips to keep her from reprimanding him for foul language and doubting his ability to survive. "-and I'm not too badly hurt, I was hoping you would accompany me to Hogsmeade on the next open weekend…on a date."

It was almost as if she had gasped and froze at the same time. If it was not such an important matter to him, he was sure that he would have laughed.

"This is why we are waiting to start the tournament?" Karkaroff's outrage broke through the magical moment the two teens were experiencing. "So the great Harry Potter can ask a girl out? Dumbledore, you pander to this boy way too much."

When Harry turned to the Durmstrang headmaster, it was as if he eyes burned with a green fire. "Don't presume to know me, sir. And don't presume to know why I do the things I do. I'm not the wild and carefree guy that books and newspapers have described the Boy-Who-Lived to be. I never will be thanks to the way I was brought up. I have never asked anyone to go on a date before." Just to his left, Harry noticed, with just a bit of satisfaction that Dumbledore had winced at that hint of what it was like for him growing up with the Dursleys. Seeing that Dumbledore was showing a sign of guilt, Harry thought he'd add to it a bit more. "With this bloody suicidal Task ahead of me, I may never be able to ask anyone out ever again! Let alone see if it could grow to be something more!"

Karkaroff, for once, was wise enough not open his mouth and upset matters worse. Instead, he chose to fold his arms and give a gruff look of disdain.

"As for Hermione, she is wonderful, sweet, kind, and even though I've known her for going on four years now, I have realized that there is still so much about her that I don't know, and I hope, in time, to have the opportunity to know."

He heard her breath catch in throat. Lowering his head, partially in embarrassment that he had lost his temper and said more than he wanted to, and a bit afraid of what she would make of all this now that he had exposed some of his true feelings that he had for her.

"Um, hey." He raised a tentative hand out to her. She took his hand, before pulling him into her warm embrace that he couldn't have escaped if had wanted to. Which he didn't.

Slowly they separated, and it was now Hermione's turn to have a problem meeting the other person's eyes. "Harry, I don't quite understand."

"What don't you understand?" he asked, a lump forming in his throat.

She flushed with embarrassment, yet pushed on to mention the very thing she didn't want to bring up. "It's just… I though… You seemed to have eyes for Cho Chang."

In the background, Cedric coughed. Harry gave a slight shake of his head, but didn't bother looking back at the Hufflepuff whose eyes were most likely boring into his back. "Hermione, I'm a male. I have noticed her and a few other female students. With all the hormones bouncing around in my body it would be hard to do otherwise. But as for Cho, I really don't even know her. As far as I know I've only said something like '_good match_' after a quidditch game."

"But you," he continued. "What is not to love about you? You are thoughtful, and extremely cute when you bite your lip while you are working out a frustrating problem. You are determined to watch out for me even when you know it will irritate me. You even gave me the first hug I can remember. And, I miss you whenever you are not nearby."

Sensing a pause, Dumbledore decided to intervene. This was going entirely too far. There was no chance of a relationship between the two of them. Harry's future would not have a happy ending, as much as he wished it were otherwise. No, it was best to end this piece of fiction now. At least then Hermione could have a chance of a happy life. Maybe with Ron. Yes, he could arrange that. Then at least the two friends of Harry would have each other after Harry was gone after taking down Voldemort. Yes, he could do that much for Harry. "Harry,-"

"Do you mind, old man!" Harry barked over his shoulder at the surprised headmaster. "I'm trying to ask out the girl of my dreams here in case you haven't noticed!"

Hermione let out a gasp. "Do you mean that, Harry?"

As the two teens ignored their headmaster, the flush of anger in Harry's face swiftly became the flush of embarrassment. "Hermione, I don't know the right things to say in matters like this. I'm not Fred or George. Hell, I'm not even Percy. All I can do is be entirely open to you. And in saying that I have to tell you that I am highly interested in you, and what I'm hoping for is that if we go out a few times on dates, that we can find out if we want to become boyfriend/girlfriend." He gave her a warm smile.

"Th-then I say yes," she managed. "To a date, or dates that is." She quickly brought her hands up to her lips to keep from squealing from excitement. Without prompting, they engaged in a hug.

Wiping a tear from her eye, Hermione looked up at the others. The Veela Fleur was happily whispering to her headmistress Maxime with the half-giantess bent down to hear her. Hermione was rather surprised when Krum turned away from her, but assumed it was from a cultural thing.

"Can we get on with things now?" growled Karkaroff, whom Harry was beginning to consider as having the same charming personality as Snape.

With a sigh of reluctance, Harry nodded. They didn't say another word, as there was nothing to say. Harry did manage to hold the tent flap open for her so that she could exit. It also gave him the opportunity to reach out and stroke her soft hair.

Harry was lost in his own thoughts after that until Ludo Bagman held out the silk bag in front of him. Realizing he was to reach inside, he soon withdrew an animated miniature dragon.

"You'll be the last contestant, Potter," Bagman said cheerily, as he tucked the bag away.

"Wait, is this… is this a Norwegian Ridgeback?" He hadn't gotten the best look at the dragons that night when Hagrid was showing him and Maxime. And he had regretted that when he went to start researching them as each species had certain strengths and weaknesses.

"Wish that it was," Bagman admitted. "Those are a bit more reasonable. No, what you hold there in your hand is more or less the cousin of the Norwegian Ridgeback. It is the Hungarian Horntail; one of the most vicious dragons know to wizards and witches."

Harry nodded mutely as he studied the dragon homunculus he was holding. Looking over, he saw that Viktor Krum held in his hand a miniature dragon called the Chinese Fireball. Fleur Delacour had a Common Welsh Green dragon that seemed to want to fly away while Cedric Diggory's dragon was breathing fire at him.

"Bagman," came the venom-filled voice of Karkaroff. "I believe you are instructed to not give advice to the contestants. That each of the Champions are to face off against the dragons on their own merit."

Ludo rolled his eyes. "Like you haven't already helped you champion," he muttered under his breath, and Harry's amusement.

"What did you say?" Karkaroff yelled, pulling out his wand. "You dare to accuse me? You, a bumbling buffoon who is up to his neck in debt to the goblins, dare to accuse me? You've probably already sold the information to what the Task is to the Potter and Diggory boys. Or perhaps to that newspaper woman? Yes, I've no doubt that you must have let that Skeeter woman in here right before the Task as well."

Bagman backed away, his hands held up away from his wand so as to not give the Durmstrang headmaster a reason to blast away at him with the devil only knows what kind of dark curse. "Now, Igor, this-this is getting out of hand. Tell him, Potter, Diggory."

Harry watched Dumbledore do nothing, just watching things playing out. And when Bagman called for Harry and Cedric to vouch for him, Dumbledore just turned to him and gave him a slight nod. At that point he swayed for a second over the conundrum of what to do. He didn't want to jump every time Dumbledore told him to. There was just too many discrepancies on how the headmaster had been managing his life. The rods that his aunt had found embedded in his body most likely had come from him. But what possible reason could Dumbledore have to do that to anyone, let alone him? Why would he not tell him about it, especially as to how it was affecting him?

But either way, Bagman had not told either Harry or Cedric so just letting him be abused by the cruel Durmstrang headmaster was not something Harry could allow.

"I found out about the dragons on the same night that you and Maxime did. I saw you both in the dark examining the creatures so that you could tell your champions about them. And since Cedric was the only one honorable enough to not go looking for the creatures we were to fight, I went and told him, so as to make the contest equal for all of us."

Karkaroff looked as if he were about to turn his wand on Harry. But before his anger took him any further, Viktor Krum stepped in front of his headmaster, and faced Harry.

"Vhat Potter sayz is truth. My headmaster told me of dragons before I could tell him I did not vant to know. I vanted to face the Task on my terms. But, vonce I knew it was dragons, I study only them." He then nodded to Harry. "You, Potter, have done better than I. You made sure others knew of dragons. You have better honor than I."

"More zan me, too," Fleur stated, coming forward to stand near Krum. "I waz told of zee dragonz by my 'eadmistress, as she feared for my zafety. But in my fear for myself I did not think too warn you three. For zat I am truly zorry."

Fortunately it was Cedric who stepped forward next in full Hufflepuff mode. "Well, the important thing now is that we all know we are on equal ground, right? And more than that, this whole Tri-Wizard event was supposed to bolster International goodwill for our people. So let's put aside this trouble and be friends, yeah? In fact, why don't the four of us get together after the event for an hour or two just to get to know one another?"

"Tonight might not vork," said Viktor. "Iz good idea, but there vill be injuries. Treatment may make difficult to do tonight. Plus, if able, my schoolmates vill vant to celebrate vith me. I cannot tell them no."

Fleur nodded. "Perhaps tomorrow would be better. Barring bad injuries, of course."

Cedric gave her his winning smile. "I think you have a good idea. And if we can show the schools that we can get along, it would help on the International level." The Hufflepuff then turned to the Gryffindor. "What do you say, Harry?"

"Uh, yeah, I'm in. Just let me know when and where." He had been surprised at how well it had all turned around with the other Champions all accepting of each other instead of being divided like they were when he first stepped into the tent. Even so, Karkaroff's face looked so disgusted with everything that it reminded Harry of when Ron's broken wand had backfire so that he got hit with his own slug-vomiting charm.

Harry did give a glance back at Dumbledore to see what he was making out of all this. The odd thing was that the old wizard seemed to have lost the twinkle in his eye and was deep in thought. He wasn't sure if the headmaster was angry, concerned or disappointed.

Bagman cleared his throat, though it was obvious that he had placed himself closer to the exit and Dumbledore, as well as away from Karkaroff. "While this is wrapping up very nicely in here. (_I do suggest that no one mention the contestants knowing about the dragons ahead of time to anyone else_). It is a bit past time that I and the other judges were to go out and greet the audience. In about ten minutes, Mr. Diggory, you will hear a trumpet. That will be your cue to exit through that side of the tent."

As Bagman went on about the order of the Champions, Harry had to admit that Bagman was doing a rather good job of giving them instructions, though the rules seemed a bit threadbare to him.

Harry jumped at bit in alarm when he realized that his sleeve was on fire. His miniature of the Hungarian Horntail he was to steal an egg from had set him on fire.

_~Stop that!~ _he automatically yelled at the mini-Horntail. To his amazement, the faux-dragon did just that.

"You talk to reptiles?" Krum said, surprising Harry who suddenly realized what he had just done.

"Yeah, but Parseltongue is just an ability; it doesn't necessarily make me evil." He could already see that Bagman looked pale enough to pass for one of the Hogwarts ghosts.

"Of course it doez not!" exclaimed Fleur. "My family's doctor is a Parzeltongue. She iz a very kind and funny woman. She 'az gone to India several timez to study. India has the 'ighezt known number of Parseltongue speakerz az it is more 'ereditarily established there. I 'ave 'eard of the British ztigma toward Parseltongue speakers. 'ow zey are thought to be evil. It iz stupid."

That was something that Harry could very much agree on. "British wizards aren't known for being very logical. I have a theory that part of the problem is all the inbreeding among all the pure-bloods. Makes them rather simple minded and more willing to believe whatever they are told."

"Also is weak com-pul-sions on your Daily Prophet paper," Krum stated with his hands folded over his chest, obviously deeply in disgust with anyone who would manipulate it's readers in that manner.

When Harry was able to pick up his dropped jaw, he rounded on his headmaster. "Did you know about this? Compulsions in the papers?"

For his part, Dumbledore also looked shocked. "I had no idea. But I suppose, that with all the magical photographs in the paper, and other minor spells, that there could be a charm or hex of some type that could be hidden under all the underlining magic in the newspaper." Then he asked Krum, "Tomorrow, could I have a word with you. I would like to know exactly how this is being done."

Krum nodded. "I vill bring Hans and Vlad. They are vnes who find spell hidden in your Prophet. They like to pick magic items apart. See how they work."

Dumbledore nodded. "Good, good." Then looking around him, he nodded toward the opening of the tent. "We should be heading out there. Crouch is probably about to send out a search party for us. Ladies first," he said, as he bowed to Maxime as he used his magic to open the tent wide enough that she did not have to stoop down to get through.

Once Bagman and the headmasters were all gone, the four Champions separated to the four corners of the tent, each intent on studying their dragon.

Harry took a seat on the ground and set his dragon down. The Horntail regarded him for a moment, then set about digging around the ground, moving rocks around and tearing up grass to make a mound.

_~Are you making a nest?~_

The tiny dragon looked up at him before giving a bit of a nod.

Scratching his chin, Harry decided to try an experiment. Using his wand, he shaped a small rock until it resembled the dragon's egg that Harry had seen in Hagrid's hut back in his first year.

He then gently placed the miniature egg near the dragon's impromptu nest. The diminutive dragon rushed to claim the egg, picking it up in her mouth to carry to her nest. What it did next really surprised Harry. Setting the egg down, the mini-dragon stood over it and growled at Harry. Then began to breathe fire at him, forcing Harry to roll to the side, or risk being dragon-burned before his turn even began. "Whoa! Watch it!"

"What are you doing, Harry?" Cedric had seen the commotion and had come over to distract himself from his upcoming challenge.

"Just experimenting to see how much like a dragon these toy dragons really are. Turns out, they have a lot of the same instincts. At least I think they do."

By that time Fleur and Viktor had come over. The little Horntail was hissing up a fit as she stood protectively over her egg, while every now and then sending up a flare of flame, one of which almost got to Harry.

Cedric walked around the nest, and the little dragon continued to change her position over her egg so that she was able to keep the Hufflepuff in view the entire time. "I think that these replicas we were given will try to react the same way that the real dragon would, depending upon the situation." That said, Cedric pointed his wand at a nearby small rock, turning it into a miniature wolf. Then, with another flick of his wand, Cedric sent the wolf toward the dragon and her nest. It wasn't long before the former rock was charred wolf flesh. "Guys, I think we have a way of testing what we are planning to do for our challenge on the small dragon models we were given."

Fleur let out a strangled '_eep_' before racing back to her corner to make a nest for her Welsh Green dragon. Krum also saw the advantage of this, and gave a brisk standing salute, or something like it, before retiring to his corner.

Cedric nudged Harry in the shoulder with his knuckles. "Good job, Potter."

"Hey, you are the one who suggested that he could use the models for practice," Harry pointed out.

"Speaking of which, I have a couple of scenarios I want to try out. And since I am going first, I'd better get on it then."

"Good luck, Cedric."

"You, too, Harry."

**AUTHOR's NoTeS**

_Hey there, readers._

_This was mostly a filler chapter, but things needed filling._

_Sorry if the accents for Fleur and Viktor are not the best, but it was the best I could do._

_There will be more Dursley related scenes in upcoming chapters, not to worry._

_Read and review please._


	3. Chapter 3

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts 3**

**By Ordinaryguy2**

Harry stepped out into a collage of cheers and jeers from those seated in the stadium. Those who booed or made other offensive noises were mostly from the Slythern and Durmstrang sections, as well as quite a few of the Hufflepuffs joining in. The Gryffindors and the rest of the school were doing their best at drowned out the rude behavior of the others. He did note that the Beauxbatons students were taking a neutral stance, and only politely clapping.

The autumn air seemed warm to him, but then he remembered that the three contestants before him had all faced fire-breathing dragons. That was sure to raise the temperature of the air.

As if on cue, a great blast of fire cut through the air with a deafening roar from the far side of the arena.

"Damn, she looks even bigger now that she's out of her cage," Harry murmured even as his pulse raced.

The Hungarian Horntail stood over her clutch of eggs eyeing those in the stands for possible threats before turning her venomous gaze to Harry.

Gulping, Harry raised his wand towards Hogwarts and shouted "_Accio Firebolt_!"

Harry then had to duck down behind one of the many boulders that were strewn about the arena least he be engulfed in dragon fire.

~_Char you till your meat falls from your bones! Burn you to ashes_!~

Comprehension began to come to him in his shock. He could understand the dragon. And if he could understand the dragon, then maybe she could understand him. He didn't like the idea of using Parseltongue in front of a large crowd, but it beat being incinerated.

He risked a quick peek around the boulder, and let go of the breath he'd been holding once he saw the dragon once again scrutinizing those in the stands.

But what was he to say? That was the problem. He knew he didn't have long because the Task was being timed, though he was more than willing to let the time go long if it meant a greater chance of his survival. But first he'd have to convince the dragon of that.

Carefully he climbed on top of one of the larger boulders, and stood so that he had to only take one step back to be protected by the stone.

_~Oh great dragon, I wish to have words with you!~_

Shouting in Parseltongue was not a very easy feat to accomplish as it was not easily accomplished with a human throat, but even so, the dragon heard him.

_~You speak!~_ she exclaimed with some surprise.

_~I do.~_

_~You shall not smash my eggs!~_ she roared.

Harry edged back to the edge of the boulder. _~No one wants to hurt your eggs!~_ he said desperately, looking back for his Firebolt.

_~Liar! I smell the smashed eggs of other dragons put here!~ _

Harry jumped down just barely escaping the fire that passed over his head. As he waited for the boulder to cool off, he spotted where the judges stood on their private platform overlooking everything. Dumbledore was running his fingers through his beard as he studied Harry's predicament. Bagman was giddy and biting down on the brim of his hat with every roar the dragon gave. Madame Maxime sat still as a large statue, impassively. Crouch, the head of the Dept. of International Magical Cooperation and one of the instigators of the reinstatement of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, seemed to not care of the risk he had placed on the Champions, as if putting a teen against a dragon were not a major concern. Karkaroff, however, seemed to be enjoying himself all too well.

Pointing at his own throat, Harry cast a Sonorus spell. "You let dragon eggs be broken? Are the lot of you totally insane? The dragon smells broken dragon eggs and now she thinks I'm going to do the same to hers!"

Harry had to duck down further as the dragon responded to his shouting by spraying the boulder he was hiding behind with more fire.

Through bits of the fire, Harry could just make out the judges arguing with each other, but soon realized that he was on his own. There was no way Karkaroff was letting him get any help if he could block it.

Sensing a break in the fire, Harry moved to the side just in time to catch his Firebolt flying to him. Jumping on it, he raced with it upwards away from the dragon and the deathly fire. Once he was out of range, Harry began to hover on his broomstick and take a moment to study the arena for any advantages he could use.

For the dragon part, she was alternating fiery breaths in his direction as well as howl morbidly descriptive terms of what she would do to him if she laid her claws on him.

It was by chance that he spotted his aunt, uncle and cousin sitting in the stands. His uncle was the easiest to make out as he was by far the largest man this side of Hagrid watching the Task. Vernon Dursley seemed tickled with glee at watching his nephew being put through such a trial, even if it was at the hands of the Freaks in the Wizarding world. Harry figured Vernon's probably decided that if he was going to be forced to watch this freaky spectacle, he could at least enjoy seeing his freak of a nephew be put through the Wizarding world's version of a gauntlet.

His Aunt Petunia was distinctly crying and holding her Dudley tight in her arms, alternating putting her hands over his eyes and ears.

Dudley for his part didn't know what to think of things, especially with his mother alternating pulling things out of his hair and crying over Harry. On the other side of Dudley sat Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. But what about knocked Harry off his broomstick was when he noticed that Lavender was looking at Dudley sadly and holding his hand!

And the dragon! It seemed more outraged than before Harry had said anything to it. The only thing keeping Harry safe for the moment was the chain around it's neck confining it's range of attack.

He took a moment to glance around for Hermione, but couldn't see her, though he did see Luna Lovegood standing next to Hagrid. Knowing he couldn't waste any more time, Harry began looking at the placements of the rocks, plotting possible routes and cover from fire, as well as what spells would be best used in a certain place.

"This is such a not good plan," he murmured with a resigned sigh.

He flew wide around the dragon, and near the crowd, coming to a stop at where he was supposed to go with his egg. Instead, he stood right next to the line that he was supposed to cross, but didn't. As he watched the dragon roar at him, he could hear the crowd behind him jeering him being a coward and a quitter.

A movement in his pocket, broke the moment for him as he looked down to see the model Horntail dragon that he had pulled out of the bag that Bagman had had them make selections from climb out of his pocket and begin looking around.

"Yeah, let's let you down. At least one of us won't be burnt to a crisp."

As he set the dragon homunculus down at the finish line, he hit it was a mild spell. "Now when I get back, I expect you to be right here, yeah?"

Taking off on his broom again, Harry tried going high and out of range in order to talk to the dragon again.

He had to fly to one side to evade a column of smoke that would have at the least blistered any exposed skin. _~Listen to me for a moment. I don't want to be here any more than you do~ _

_~You shall not touch even one of my eggs!~ _she screeched.

~_I don't want your eggs! I only need the fake egg they put in your nest!~_

_~You shall have nothing from my nest, egg smasher! Even if there is a fake egg, you shall not have it!~_

Harry groaned as his head dropped. "So much for the easy way."

Resigned to what he was going to have to do, Harry power dived, and cut to the left before spiraling up and then back again. He knew he was winding the dragon up, but at the same time he had to gage her reaction time if he was going to come out of this in one piece. Or at least in as big a remaining piece as he could; he had no desire to end up looking like Mad-Eye Moody after all.

Coming around the side, Harry swung back toward the dragon who was just opening her mouth to expel another bout of fire.

"-_Langlock!-_" His spell flew true, striking right in the dragon's mouth. Almost instantly, the dragon's tongue was glued to the top of it's mouth, making it impossible to breath fire. He wished he'd been able to use a strong Stupefy spell, but then the dragon would have for sure fallen on her eggs, crushing them beneath her.

Harry was about to follow through with an _Obscuro_ spell to blindfold the dragon when flares of fire jetted toward him from the dragon's nostrils. He pulled out of the way with a barrelroll on his broomstick, but by forcing more magic than usual through his wand, Harry used the _Aguamenti_ charm to send a river of water at the dragon. While that did take care of the flames, and knock the dragon's head back, Harry had not been ready for the super-heated steam that the dragon fire and water had made. It had caught him on his right side, scalding a bit of his face, but also his right arm.

He gasped in pain and gnashed his teeth as he then realized his mistake in not thinking of the resulting steam. Flying high, Harry glanced down at his right, blistered hand only to note something missing. His wand!

For those Quidditch fans, it looked like Harry had suddenly turned around to do a Wronski Feint. The entire audience, fan or foe, took in a collective gasp as they realized just how close to the dragon Harry's broom dive was going to be taking him. More than a few women screamed in terror. And maybe even one or two of the men (_but later Lugo Bagman would deny it_).

Harry, meanwhile, scanned the air like mad for any sign of his wand during his power dive. He hoped it was still in mid-air so he could catch it and fly away before the dragon was able to react.

The dragon, however, was not in a very forgiving mood. Her recovery from the onslaught of water was practically instantaneous, and instinctively she shook the water off herself. Then did a quick look at her clutch of eggs. As she check over her eggs, she did see an odd addition to her nest. She snorted in anger at the game these magical humans were playing at, especially when they included her eggs in the works!

She worked her jaw back and forth. The spell the Parseltongue human had hit the inside of her mouth with was starting to loosen thanks to the high resilient nature dragons had to magical attacks.

Her anger filled her as she decided that she would make an example of this human in front of the others of it's kind. Only at that juncture may they learn not to endanger the eggs of dragons.

It was then she spotted him. The human riding his flying stick was heading almost straight down at her. Her eyes narrowed and she caught sight of the smaller flying stick that was also falling.

While dragons only noted magical humans to be an annoyance to be put up with, they were observant of them enough to know that practically all of the humans magical abilities tie into the little sticks that they liked to wave about. And now she saw that the human that was a threat to her clutch of eggs was without his little stick. But only for a moment.

Choosing to end this threat now, she leapt upward with all her might. The chain around her neck tugged her to a stop for just a moment before crumpling away, and then she was in the air, heading upwards straight at a diving Harry Potter.

**AUTHOR's NoTeS**

_Ha! Cliffhanger! Anyway, sorry for the short chapter, but I think the next one will be running a bit long._

_Read and review please._


	4. Chapter 4

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts 4**

**By Ordinaryguy2**

Diving down as fast as his Firebolt could take him, Harry finally spotted his wand falling toward the ground. Almost at the same time Harry realized that the Hungarian Horntail had broken free of it's leash and was flying straight up to meet him with her jaws wide.

"Merlin's beard!" Harry pulled his broom to the side, trying to put some distance between him and the dragon. He had wanted to go for his wand, but he wasn't nearly close enough. Even the daredevil Gryffindor seeker knew better than to do something that reckless. Especially when the dragon was roaring how she was going to roast him alive. Mothering dragons! He didn't know who was crazier, the dragon or whoever thought that this task was a good idea?

He turned his broomstick up so that he could go high over the stadium seating without getting very close to it. The last thing he wanted was for the crazed dragon to start taking out her anger issues on the people who had been watching the First Task, as it would have been a slaughter. As it was he could see a several people starting to run for the exits.

There was a flash that caught both him and the dragon by surprise. Harry, having had more experience with the sudden flash of a camera, recovered first from the sudden bright light of Colin Creevey's camera.

Looking back at the dragon, Harry saw that what he had feared was about to come to pass. The dragon had turned her attention down to the wizards and witches below her and was beginning to inhale. Harry could almost see the whites of Colin's eyes as realized what taking that picture just then would be costing him.

Harry performed an almost perfect 180 degree turn in mid-air, and flew back toward the dragon, kicking one of her ears in passing to get her attention, then narrowly twisting out of the way of her snapping teeth.

"This '_Saving People_' thing Hermione says I have is going to be the death of me!" he shouted as he left the stadium behind him. In spite of that rather hectic moment in the life of Harry Potter, he was rather surprised when he was able to coax more speed out of his broomstick, though the dragon was still keeping up behind him.

Harry ducked down through one of the bridge walkways connected to the castle. Glancing back, he could see that the dragon had been slowed down, but only just, as it smashed itself through it.

"As if people didn't blame me for enough stuff," he muttered.

Hearing the roar of flames behind him, Harry flew over the Sundial Garden and dove behind the Owlery from which almost a hundred terrified owls took flight. The owls proved to be a better distraction then the walkway, causing the dragon to stop it's flight briefly as the owls scattered. Annoyed at the smaller winged creatures, the dragon sent out a flare of dragon fire, incinerating a few of the slower owls.

Meanwhile, Harry had moved up and over the castle as he looked for someplace to go. "I should head back and get my wand," he muttered. "Dumbledore and the dragon handlers should be able to round up the dragon," he said, trying to convince himself. He flew up behind the turret on Ravenclaw tower, and began to hover under the eaves. "Who am I kidding, I can't head back there now. Everyone was starting to stampede. If the dragon follows me back, it would just lead to more people getting injured as they ran away."

Glancing around, he saw no signs of the dragon. Deciding he had to have a plan, he looked out toward the Forbidden Forest and wondered if he should try to make a run for it on his broom.

Before he could decide, the part of the roof above him shattered as the Horntail smashed her way through it with her head.

"Bloody h-"

The dragon slipping of the tiles of the roof was the only thing that saved him at that point. Even so, he still collided with the head of the dragon, and heard the snap of his broom. Having no other options open to him, Harry grabbed onto whatever he could, leading him in the precarious position of riding on the back of the dragon's head while several pieces of the stone wall of the tower and broken tiles fell around him.

Desperately, Harry tried to think of any way to get out of this. He had once apparated as a child to get away from Dudley and his gang, and ended up on the school roof. But Hogwarts had apparition wards up so that idea was out. His wand was gone, lost somewhere over the arena. Talking to the dragon hadn't worked as she was madder than Snape after Fred and George pulling a brilliant prank on him. That only left wandless magic.

He was so screwed.

But, no, he had to try. He had a date with Hermione to go on. And he wasn't going to let some crazed dragon ruin that for him.

He tried to remember what McGonagall had said on the subject of wandless magic. Intent. Intent was always key. Every student at Hogwarts had performed wandless magic at one point or another before coming to Hogwarts. They had done so by intent, and sometimes quite a lot of adrenaline. Which he had at the moment in spades.

_The dragon is just too big, and I'm too small_, he thought.

The dragon was pulling out of it's fall, and Harry was pressed hard against her head. So she would land and that would be the end of Harry and any plans he had for the future.

_I can't spell the dragon; her scales would block my magic. So I'd have to magic myself. But I don't know any growing spells I can use. _He flinched as the dragon let out another angry roar. _I'll have to improvise, and push hard on intent._

Oddly enough, Harry did remember the words to one growing spell. Dudley had been watching an American cartoon show about the Super Friends, a team of super-heroes. He mostly remembered it because of the fit Dudley had thrown when his mother had tried to turn it off. Harry had only seen a small piece of the show as he was emptying the trash. A hero named Apache Chief had shouted out some words and then grew to an enormous size. Later that night, locked in his cupboard under the stairs, Harry would whisper those same words and imagine himself bigger than Vernon, Petunia and Dudley, and that no one would be able to be mean to him ever again.

Pushing on his magic, Harry shouted the words he remembered from that cartoon. "Eh-neeek-chock!"

The dragon was about to touchdown onto the grass next to the castle, and deal with the puny wizard that was a threat to her eggs, when suddenly there was something very large on her back. She crashed down face first with the thing on the back falling.

She shook of the dirt and grass from her head so that she could safely open her eyes. There, picking himself off the ground, was the threat to her hatchlings. The wizard had somehow become her size.

_~Now stop this!~_ Harry shouted in Parseltongue. _~There is no need for-~_

The fourth Champion had to dive to the side to avoid being immolated. He just barely turned to the side to miss the Horntail's snapping head, and automatically grabbed it to try hold it tight. But while he could hold the head with his hands clamping the dragon's mouth closed, there was very little he could do about the rest of the dragon. The dragon had managed to sink one of her claws into the calf of Harry's leg, causing him to scream in agony.

In retaliation, Harry turned and slammed the dragon's head into the side of the castle's outer walls, knocking several stones loose. He managed the feat on more time before the dragon wrapped her tail around the teenager's legs, causing him to fall. Both dragon and human began to roll away from the castle and toward the Forbidden Forest, hitting, scratching, and whatever else they could do to hurt the other one. Harry didn't even realize just how far they had gone until him elbow pushed in the wall of Hagrid's hut. The dragon had let out a snort of flame from her nostrils that had cooked and burned several of the pumpkins in Hagrid's garden.

_Being big isn't enough_, Harry grimaced as he landed on his back with the dragon mostly on top of him. _I have to change things more to my favor. I just don't know what._

Pushing on his magic as hard as he could, Harry could feel the magic working in and around him. But what happened was not at all what he expected.

_~What happened? Where are my arms? What did I do?~_

The Hungarian Horntail pulled back as she, too, was trying to understand what she was seeing. _~Wizard? What have you done?~_

Harry twisted his body to see what had happened to himself, and was briefly surprised at being able to turn so much so easily. And then surprise gave into shock as he saw the long serpentine body he now had. A snake-like body with the legs of a bird oddly enough. Even stranger were the large wings he had covered in red and orange feathers.

_~I have no idea,~ _Harry finally answered.

The dragon shook her head in irritation. _~Changing your shape will not save you, wizard!~ _And she lunged.

Harry felt the bite on his…neck, though since most of his body was not discernable from his neck, he wasn't sure which term should apply, not that he was giving it much thought at that moment. But the bite was somewhere between his head and his new pair of wings, that much his body could tell him.

The bite only penetrated his scales slightly, but the pressure of the dragon's jaws was painful to the flesh underneath the scales. In what must have been an instinctive move, Harry wrapped his new serpentine body around the dragon as they began to roll toward the Forbidden Forest.

Soon they were smashing through small trees and bouncing off of older ones, leaving destruction wherever they went. Somewhere he could hear the thundering of hooves as the centaurs ran away from the rampaging monsters. Harry could only hope that none of the centaurs got caught up in their fighting as it was Harry and the dragon that were intruding in their home territory. He wouldn't put it past the head centaur, Bane, to try riddle him with arrows if he thought he could get away with it.

They had been bouncing around in such a tangle of scaly bodies, bashing wings and whipping tails that he hadn't realized just how far they had gone when he and the dragon fell through a giant cobweb between two great trees.

~_We've crashed into an Acromantula web!_~ he exclaimed with alarm as he tried to break away from the dragon.

The dragon wasn't about to let go though. But she had enough sense of preservation to turn her head to see what he was reacting to. In part of the web above them was a large dog-sized spider trying to hold on to it's madly vibrating web.

~_Bah! There is no reason to be concerned about one_ _Acromantula.~ _That said, she sent up a flare of fire that instantly fried the giant spider and burned away at the webbing that lay about them.

_~This forest is the home of hundreds of them! Some many times the size of the one you just killed!~ _Harry was finding it much easier to shout in this new form he had taken, but this was definitely not the time to experiment with his ability to use Parseltongue.

He had only had the one encounter with the giant spiders while in his second year at Hogwarts. While waiting for the mandrakes to be mature enough to use for Hermione and several others to be unpetrified, Harry had poked around in the Hogwarts library and took the opportunity to read a little about the Acromantula colony (or infestation) that lived so close to the school full of young wizards and witches. He hadn't read it long as some of the descriptions had made him rather sick to his stomach. But one thing that did stick out was that Acromantula preferred to hunt in packs. And it was that little bit of knowledge that warned him that there were most likely more of the eight-legged monsters around.

Twisting his head up, Harry was not all that surprised to see six more of the Acromantula lowering themselves down towards them on silken rope made from their own body. What did surprise him was how all six of the gigantic arachnids all seemed to stiffen up, and even turning rather grayish before suddenly dropping like stones only to shatter into shards when they made an impact with the ground.

The dragon began to tighten her grip around Harry again, but before the melee began again, Harry shouted to reason with her to try get her to stop. _~Listen! Can't you hear? The Acromantula are coming! We have to get out of here!~_

The dragon did pause and listen. Then gave a snort. ~_They are running away, little wizard. All know that Acromantula flee from the basilisk. They can never stop their many eyes from looking into your deadly gaze.~_

~_I'm a basilisk?~_ He wasn't sure how to deal with that piece of news._ ~If my gaze is so deadly, then why don't you fear me?~_

_~Are all wizards as ignorant as you, little wizard? Dragons are one of the few creatures immune to the gaze of a basilisk.~_

Harry almost groaned as he remembered Hagrid once telling him how dragons were highly resilient to magic. Basilisks had not been mentioned but he could see how their deadly gaze could be one of the things dragons were immune to.

~_So I'm a basilisk, just for some reason or other one with large wings and birds feet.~ _He gave a shake of his head._ ~Weird.~_

He noted the dragon poised to attack again and shouted, _ ~Stop! We don't have to do this! I don't want to have to kill you!~_

She made a slight coughing sound that Harry took to be laughter. ~_And how would you do that, little wizard? I have already told you that I am immune to your gaze._~

~_True, but I'm betting that you are not immune to basilisk venom. So far I have not tried biting you, but I will if I have to.~_

She hissed at that and tightened her grip around him.

_~Plus, you have to think of your eggs. If you die, who will watch over your hatchlings? Would the dragon handlers try to raise them, or will they try to get other mothering dragons to take your babies in with their own. I really don't know what usually happens in that scenario but I'm rather certain you don't want your hatchlings to find out. And neither do I. A mother should be there for her children.~_

She was getting angry again. Harry decided to switch gears. _~How about if I promise to not go near your clutch of eggs, you promise to stop fighting with me? Deal?~_

_~What of your contest?~ _she snorted, igniting a bush that was in front of her.

_~If I haven't gotten the false egg by now, I might as well forget about it. I may have been forced into this competition, but there is no way your eggs should have been put at risk. Even though that wasn't my fault, I do apologize for it. Personally, if I could, I'd hand over to you whoever came up with the idea to put any of the dragons' eggs at risk, not to mention our lives.~_

He could tell he was being weighed for any signs of falsehood. So he stood and waited.

_~It is possible that I may have misjudged you, little wizard.~ _She began the process of detangling herself from Harry's new form. Harry tried to help even though he found it difficult as he was still unfamiliar where everything was on his body.

_~I get that a lot,~ _he remarked. Once apart, Harry took the moment to try standing on his bird like feet. It wasn't easy, but his wings stretched out automatically to aid him with his balance. After a moment of being steady on his new feet, he twisted his neck around to look at his new wings and feet. _~Whoa! It's weird, but I like it. I wonder if makes me an animagus, or if it was just accidental magic that changed me?~_

The dragon gave him a few cursory sniffs that reminded Harry rather how dogs would greet each other, but that was not an analogy he was going to share with the dragon or it might start the fighting all over again.

_~Have you ever interacted with a basilisk before, little wizard?~_

He nodded. _~Yeah, about two years ago. The Beast of Slytherin living deep underneath my school, a thousand year old basilisk. Bit me right through my arm.~_

_~And you lived?~_ She gave him an incredulous look.

_~I was dying, but was saved when Fawks, a phoenix, cried healing tears into my wound, and thus saving my life.~_

She moved closer to sniff at one of his wings. _~I knew I smelled a phoenix. That must be where you picked up your shapes from, from your encounter with the basilisk and the phoenix.~_

Harry gave his wings another once-over, and stretched them out. _~They do resemble Fawk's wings.~ _He gave the wings on his new serpentine back a few flaps, and began to rise foot by foot into the air._ ~Merlin, I hope I'm as good flying with wings as I am on a broomstick.~ _He was surprised by the actual force his wings needed to push the air to the point that it lifted his body into the air. His surprise grew as he realized the strength he must have in those wings. _~This is so awesome!~_

The dragon began her coughing laugh again. ~_Little wizard, you are behaving like a hatchling.~_

Harry started to make a small circle, surprising some birds that suddenly became like stone and fell to the ground. _~Damn! I forgot all about that deadly eyes thing.~_

_~Close your second eyelids.~_

Harry landed in front of the dragon and his tail wrapped around a large tree. _~Second eyelids? I have a pair of second eyelids?~_

_~Of course you do. How else is a basilisk supposed to get food to eat? Did you think that basilisks consume stone? No, they like flesh just as dragons do, fresh.~_

Harry ignored that comment, and instead concentrated on his eyes. Nothing happened at first, so he blinked his eyes a few times before something like shades came down over his eyes. ~_I think I did it! The second pair of eyelids came down!~_

_~And now I must return to my nest. I do not trust my eggs with all those wizards running about.~ _She clawed the ground to show her unease.

_~Right!~ _Harry agreed. _~Let's get back before anyone does something more stupid than placing school kids against mothering dragons.~_

_~Exactly.~ _She took to the air and Harry quickly followed. It wasn't the most graceful of flights for Harry. His wings were attached to his back at about one-third of the way down his body, leaving the other two-thirds hanging behind him. He managed to curl up the back half of him, but it probably didn't look very dignified.

~Wait! It would probably be better if we came in together!~

She let out a roar of frustration, but she did slow down so that he was able to match her speed.

She looked over at him and began another of her laughing coughs. _~You need to work on your form, little wizard!~_

_~I know. Right now I'm just trying to get back to the arena.~_

Coming in high, the dragon and the basilisk/phoenix hybrid swooped down to the middle of the arena. The dragon glided to her nest, sending a small stream of flame as a warning to one of the dragon handlers that was standing near her eggs.

For Harry's part, he landed next to the finish line. Making sure that his second pair of eyelids were in place, he scanned the seats seeing most of them empty, though some had stayed to see if anything else were to happen. He also noticed that his family -Petunia, Vernon and Dudley- were all still in their seats although they were struggling to stand up but for some reason were unable to, like as if they were glued to the seats. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil seemed to be trying to free them, but now they were all staring at him.

Harry snorted when he realized that with them being stuck there, that they hadn't seen his transformation into his hybrid form.

_This ought to be fun._

He concentrated and returned to his human form, but was still a giant. He gave his aunt a wink, then began concentrating on being normal sized again. He tried a few times before he felt something shift.

As he shrunk, he was hit by a bout of vertigo that knocked him to his knees. He sat down next to the finish line and tried not to throw up.

There was a small sound in the dirt that made him look up to see the model dragon that he had released at the beginning of his Task. Next to the imitation dragon was the golden dragon egg that Harry was supposed to get.

"Oh good, you did it after all." Harry reached out and let the mini-dragon climb up his arm. Then he reached down and picked up the golden egg.

From over by the dragon's nest, the dragon had finished inspecting her nest. Looking over at Harry see saw him with the fake egg. _~How did you manage to get the false egg from my nest, little wizard?~_

Harry nodded to the little dragon that was now on his shoulder. ~_The judges made life-like miniatures of each of the dragons for the contest. While waiting for my turn, I found a way to control this one so while I distracted you, this little version of you removed the fake egg so that there would be no fighting around your clutch of eggs. If it makes any difference, I planned to keep my word. If this little replica of you had not managed to bring the egg to the finish line, I would have just given up.~_

He was startled at the laughing-coughing fit she seemed to undergo. ~_I like you, little wizard, even when you win, you apologize_.~

Hearing something behind him, he saw a most welcome sight. Hermione slowed down from a run to a walk once she saw that Harry seemed okay. "Harry!"

"Hermione!" Harry struggled to his feet, suddenly feeling weaker than he had a few minutes before. He managed a step forward before suddenly crashing to the ground. "Whoa. Not good." Hermione was rushing over to him with a worried expression on her face. "Hey, look I managed to cross the finish line. Well, part of me anyway. The part holding the egg; that's what counts, rrright?"

Hermione's focus was on something else. "Harry, what did you do to your back?" she said with alarm.

"Hhhuhhh?" His head felt funny, almost as if he was intoxicated. "Back? Feels warmmm."

"It's like you're bleeding, but not blood!" She pulled him down flat over her lap. Desperately, she put her hands over the fluid-like stuff pouring out of his back, trying to stop it. "Five holes going down your spine. Did the dragon do this?"

He tried to think, but it was like his brain was turning to slush. "Holesss, baack?" It sounded familiar to him. Something that had happened to him on this day, but before the First Task. "McGongagall. Ssshe-she knows. Petununa, too. Luuunaa."

"It-it's going to be alright, Harry! Madame Pomfrey is coming! And Professor McGonagall is with her." Not that Harry could hear her as he had already passed out. Hermione was now leaning over Harry, pressing her hands and her upper body against his back in a desperate attempt to stem the flow of the fluid. "Oh Harry, please don't die!"

**AUTHOR's NoTeS**

_Little bit of a spoiler: Harry lives! And that's all I'm giving away. _

_Still, Harry did complete his task. He showed a bit of how much he had been hampered by the rods by making himself giant-sized. As for the basilisk-phoenix combination- I just really liked it._

_Also, next chapter should have more Dursley interaction._


	5. Chapter 5

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts 5**

**By Ordinaryguy2**

He woke up to pain and a weariness that seemed to cover him like a lead blanket. The pain was all over with some areas that proved to be much more so. As he tried to remember why each of those spots hurt, memories of his deadly tussle with the dragon came to the surface of his mind. Resolutely, he let out a moan to declare his survival to the world.

"Harry? Are you waking up?"

It was a soft, gentle voice, and probably the only one he could consider welcome while still feeling like a dragon had run over him several times.

"H-Hermione?" he groaned. He opened his eyes just a crack before letting them slam shut again, thinking that there was no reason for the world to be that bright.

"Here. Take a sip of this. It's just water. Madam Pomfrey will be by shortly to give you a taste of something revolting soon enough."

"How… long?"

Hermione let out a sigh. "It's been almost thirty hours since you keeled over onto the finish line at the First Task."

He let out another low moan, and Hermione kindly let him have another sip of cold water.

As he laid there quietly for a few minutes, his other senses started to fill him in on his surroundings. His nose picked up right away on the medicinal odors he knew to be found in the Hogwarts hospital wing. He could here crickets and frogs singing their songs loudly in the distance so it had to be sometime in the evening. He tried not to think of what his tongue was telling him what his breath must smell like. But it was his sense of touch that had him confused, not that he wanted to focus on that for long with the way he was feeling. But nonetheless, he could sense that someone, Hermione was his first bet, was laying in the bed alongside him. There was also something warm pressed up along his back that was pushing him up somewhat, tilting him toward the other person in his bed. He figured it to be pillows, but it didn't feel quite right to him.

He steeled himself to risk the dangers of opening his eyes again. "Glasses?"

"Here."

She had started to put them on him one handed before he intercepted her effort and completed the chore himself. With the world in sharper focus, he began to squint his eyes open. Sure enough, Hermione was lying next to him in a Hogwarts hospital bed.

"Um, not that I'm complaining, but…?"

"Why am I in your bed?" She gave him a flirtatious look that startled him. Not that he minded in the least.

"How much of the Task do you remember?"

He had been busy soaking in the sight of Hermione Granger lying in bed next to him, trying to memorize everything. It didn't matter that she was fully clothed; it was just the first time he'd ever had these particular circumstances happen to him.

"Uh, the Task, right. Let's see. I returned with the dragon, changed back and returned to normal size. The model of the dragon I selected to go against brought the fake golden egg to the finish line like I had instructed it to."

"That was brilliant, by the way," she interjected.

"Thanks," he said, managing a smile. "After that point things went dark. But I think you were there."

She nodded, now with a more somber attitude. "Yes, I was there. Never more scared for you in my life, including when I saw you surrounded by Dementors last year." She reached behind her to snag the glass of water resting on a bedside table. She took a quick sip, then offered him a sip, which he thanked her for.

"Professor McGonagall explained it to me," she went on quietly. "Said that your aunt had somehow found something she called dampening rods that had been sticking out of your spine. Five of them. Somehow they existed on a metaphysical level and had been severely lessening the amount of magic that could be in your magical core." She took another sip before putting it back on the bedside table. "Once they were removed, magic began rushing in to fill the void, even more so when you started doing Merlin-level magic during your Task."

"Merlin-level? Really?" He hadn't considered how high the amount of magic he'd preformed would place him; he'd been too busy just trying to survive.

The hard look on her face stopped him from saying anything stupid. "Harry, you ruptured your magical core in five places, where each of those dampening rods had been."

A chill seemed to flow over him almost as if a Dementor was approaching. "Are you saying… am I a squib now?"

She bit her lower lip. Any other time he would have thought to be extremely adorable, but this was not that kind of moment. "We don't think so, though it is still a possibility. A remote possibility."

They've all been warned of the rare occurrence when a wizard or witch would somehow rupture their magical core. It was a rare thing, happening in England about once every twenty-five years or so. Sometimes it was fatal, most times not. But those that survived were never able to use magic again.

He didn't know how it had happened but he was holding tightly to her hand, trying not to shake or feel sorry for himself. "What else happened?"

She paused, considering whether or not to reveal more. But it was Harry, and he would never hide anything from her, so she was determined to do the same for him.

"I could see the magic pouring out of your back. And I did the only thing I could think of. I used my arms and upper body to plug the holes the best that I could. They said that doing that shouldn't have worked, but it seemed to. Nothing else anyone tried to use would stop it. Finally Professor Flitwick came up with the idea that your magic was used to me. Well, that's basically what it came down to. That your magic was accepting of me to work with and that it would not ignore what I was trying to accomplish."

"So you were able to use your magic to plug up the holes in my core?"

She sighed. "We tried that. It didn't work I'm afraid."

He blinked. After what he'd been through, he wasn't up to guessing games. "So they used you as a human bandage?" he blurted out, surprised at the absurdity of that idea.

"They still are."

He closed his eyes for a moment. "What do you mean by that?"

"Please remember that we were struggling to come up with an answer before it was too late and you died. So Professor McGonagall came up with the idea of enlarging my other hand, and shape it to be more formfitting with your back. It had to be thicker, too, so that there was enough of me there for it to be effective."

Harry stared at her, then followed her arm past her shoulder as it went in back of him. "Are you telling me that that is your hand that I am leaning back against instead of some pillows propping me up?"

"Well, Professor McGonagall wanted it to be as comfortable as possible for you so she transfigured some of my enlarged hand to be like pillows for you. It was rather impressive on-the-fly thinking, if I do say so myself."

He gapped for a moment. "But it's core magic! How will that affect you?"

"It might not affect me at all; as it was pointed out to me, nobody knows for sure. And besides, I was already saturated with it before anyone could mention what it might do to me. And I do mean '_might_'. I've had Neville and Luna bring me bring me some books from the library that mention some of the rare occasions people had come into physical contact with magic leaking from another wizard or witch's magical core. Results were… widely veritable to say the least. But it was noticed that the closer the positive relationship between the two people, the more positive or neutral the results."

"Um, what do you mean by '_closer positive relationship_'?" he asked, hoping he wasn't blushing.

"Oh, ah, not necessarily romantic in nature." A blush began to fill her cheeks, but Harry was very glad she didn't turn her head away. "It could be a very good friendship, or a close parent/child relationship. Also spouses, lovers and such."

"But, we…" he pointed back and forth between them. "We should be good then, right?"

She nodded, and looked down, finding it hard to look at him. "That's what everything indicates."

He knew that they were each thinking of how he had asked her out on a date in the Champions Tent, and normally he'd want to enjoy the moment. But he just couldn't help worrying that his magic might be affecting Hermione in a bad way. "Do you know how much longer that… uh, that you will have my back, I guess you could say?" He hoped stating it with a dash of whimsical humor would be enough to distract her from how much he was really worried about her wellbeing. The look in her eye told him that she knew him all too well.

"They said they'd see about separating us in the morning. The main concern is how well your core will seal up on it's own. They brought in several specialists at you aunt's insistence. The headmaster had wanted just Madame Pomfrey and the teachers to mend you."

"My aunt went against Dumbledore?" he rhetorically mimicked, once again surprised at how different she seemed to him from when they were at home.

"I'll say. And the headmaster looked like he was going to have a stroke when he saw her here at Hogwarts."

"Now that I would have liked to have seen. Wait! Did you just say that my aunt was actually able to get Dumbledore to do things her way?"

She nodded. "I saw it all from here next to you."

He tried picturing it, but for the life of him, he couldn't. "How big of a blow up was it?"

She tapped her bottom lip for a moment as if giving it deep thought. "Well, it wasn't very long, but on scale of epic reveals, it's probably right up there with the Boy-Who-Lives-Turns-Into-A-Giant-Pheonix-Basilisk-And-Wrestles-With-Dragons kind of newsworthiness, just a lot less violence."

"Bloody-!"

"Harry, language."

Harry nodded slightly. He could see how excited she was to tell him, and he just had to know. "Okay, alright. But what happened?"

"Well she is demanding the very best specialists to come and see what they could do for you, Dumbledore summons a House-Elf and orders it to take her back home."

"That's it?"

She gave a shake of her head. "Not remotely."

He groaned. "Don't do _Princess Bride _quotes on me right now, Hermione. Just tell me, please."

"You're no fun," she said, giving him her pouty face. He retorted with his best pouty face. "Fine. You win this round, Mr. Potter. Now where was I?"

"House-Elf was called," he supplied.

"Right. So your Aunt Petunia sees this House-Elf reaching for her, and she hollers, '_You aren't taking me anywhere!_' The House-Elf jumped back in terror and said, -"

"Ah, so Mr. Potter is awake I see."

Both teens looked up to see Madame Pomfrey walking around the privacy curtain with a tray of vials that did not look at all appealing to Harry.

"Please tell me that isn't all for me?" he asked imploringly. He saw the amusement in the medical witch's eyes, and began to formulate the idea that Pomfrey was secretly a sadist. Or maybe a coconspirator of Snape's who wanted to make Harry as miserable as possible.

Hermione leaned in close. "If you take all your medicine without any complaining, I'll tell you the rest of the story."

"Merlin! You are in league with Pomfrey, aren't you?"

Hermione answered by sticking out her tongue. Madame Pomfrey merely rolled her eyes as she poured out the correct amount of medicine.

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Vernon Dursley grumbled to himself as he tore into the turkey in front of him. He had jumped at the chance to see his freak of a nephew get torn apart by a wild animal due to the fact that he had illegally become a contestant in an international school competition. At least that was what that greasy-haired git Snape had promised him. Other than that promise, the only other thing that he liked about Snape was his dislike of his nephew, Potter.

"Should have known it was too good to be true," he muttered to himself between bites. Vernon had had to convince his wife to go along, even stopping to pick up Dudley from Smelting Academy for the event. How many chances do you get to watch an ungrateful wretch like Potter receive his just desserts and be slaughtered in front of a roaring crowd? He almost wished his sister Marge knew about the freaks so he could invite her, too. He could have used the morale support.

Things had gone downhill as soon as they went through the castle gates. Petunia had started become antsy, swatting at nothing, and pulling things out of her and Dudley's hair. She had tried having a go at his hair, but he was having none of it. He had offered her a sip from his whiskey flask to settle her nerves. She had just waved it off with a look of disgust, totally ignoring his explanation of using it only for medicinal purposes.

He'd never seen a castle that large or of that well maintained before. If it wasn't for all the freaks staying there, Vernon could see it being a major tourist attraction or even a fancy hotel. And why would anyone want moving, talking portraits? It would have to drive people mad to always know someone is watching you like that. It was unnerving how the portraits watched him and whispered comments to each other. And what the hell was a muggle anyway?

The look on his freaky nephew's face when he saw them there had almost been worth the trip. He looked like he was about to drop one in his drawers. But then that old witch went off on Snape. Enjoyable to watch, but after the slimy git had been blasted with magic from behind. That's when Vernon realized just how precarious his position was here. His nephew, and all the other freaks here, could use magic to their hearts content, and not be in trouble for it. They could even use it on him and his family. And all of them had those magic sticks. Damn!

Only thing good was the food. The old witch with the Scottish name had sent them off to the kitchen for a bit while Petunia spent time with her nephew, though why she would want to do that stumped him.

On the way, they had run into an arrogant blond boy his nephew's age. Rude little freak. But offered him one of his 'Potter Stinks' badges once he knew who Vernon was. Vernon had surprised him by happily taking in and putting it on before going his own way.

As if to prove just how crazy these freaks were they could only access the castle kitchen through a secret passageway. An actual secret passageway through the backside of a painting! Ridiculous! And to get it open they had to tickle a piece of fruit on the painting! Madness!

At first he thought the kitchen was infested with all those four foot tall being dressed in rags with ears like giant bat wings. For a moment he thought that they'd been tricked, that the night's menu was going to be the Dursleys! Fortunately that turned out to be the case. The little buggers had quickly set up a table for them and laid out a spread of epic proportions. It almost made him think they were trying to fatten him up. He'd been hesitant, but Dudley had charged into the food proclaiming it to be good. Reluctantly, Vernon had sampled some of the fare, which turned out to be the best food he had ever partaken of.

No wonder his freak of a nephew looked forward to coming here every year. The food was to die for. Whatever those things working all over the kitchen, they could cook! Best damn meal of his life.

By the time Petunia had sought him out, he was just getting presently full. They head headed out to some arena out on the castle grounds. Along the way, Petunia had made him get rid of his Potter Stinks badge, which should have been his biggest clue that something was wrong.

He'd never realized there were so many of the magical freaks before. There were thousands of them sitting in the bleachers waiting for the show to begin. Most of them seemed to turn their noses up at the sight of him and his family. If they hadn't had those wands, he'd have set them straight! Stupid stuck-up freaks!

Then they brought in a dragon. An actual fire-breathing dragon. Each of the contestants had to get past a dragon and steal an egg or something. Which meant the freak Potter would have to do it, too. Hot damn, things had been looking up.

But even the prospect of seeing her nephew roasted alive didn't even cheer Petunia up. It was almost like he didn't even know her anymore.

The contests themselves were something to behold. It was also a lesson as to just how dangerous magic could be in the hands of someone who knew how to wield it. The first contestant was a tall older teenage boy had been able to turn rocks into various animals to distract the dragon while he made himself invisible and stole the egg. The second was a young French woman who seemed to suck the air out of the arena with her beauty. Now that he was able to think about it, he was embarrassed to the catcalls he'd made, not that he was the only one, but even so Petunia had not been amused at the sexuality this younger woman seemed to exude. Vernon been too enraptured to tell how she had obtained her egg from the dragon's nest, but she did just the same. The third contestant was a thickly built Bulgarian who was evidently an athletic star of some type. He'd been blunt and brutal with his Chinese dragon, so much so that the dragon had accidently stomped on some of her own eggs. Still, the Bulgarian had gained his egg.

But then Potter's turn came. The last contestant. The only reason Vernon and his family were here among all these freaks. Vernon didn't know what to expect but he was rooting for the dragon, and surprisingly so were a lot of the rest of the audience.

At first it had looked like the boy was trying to talk to the dragon, as if a beast like that could talk. They the boy had made his voice really loud to complain to the judges that the dragon was upset about eggs being broken. Somehow the boy had gotten a broom and was flying on it, circling the dragon. And that was right about when it all hit the fan.

The dragon had snapped its chain and was loose on a rampage. Even worse, someone had glued him, Petunia and Dudley to their seats. It was pandemonium as everyone skedaddled to the exits. Fortunately, the dragon had taken off after his nephew.

The two witches who had been showing them around had tried freeing them from where they had been stuck to the bleachers but said that it must be some specialty charm that needs a specific wording to release them.

That wouldn't have been too bad, except that the dragon came back, and it had a twenty yard long snake with wings for company. The dragon had gone to it's nest while the snake-thing had landed by the finish line and transformed into a giant-sized version of his nephew. How could he have that kind of power? Vernon had had him kept up in the cupboard under the stairs for nearly ten years. If the boy had turned into that thing at any time during that period, the house would have been toast, and probably their lives as well.

"Vernon, are you even listening to me?"

He glanced up at his wife. She had managed to find him in the castle's kitchen a short time ago and was relaying the latest news about that blasted nephew of hers. "Yes, Pet."

"Dumbledore was going to have one of the House-Elves take us home, even though I was adamant about staying to see how Harry was doing."

"You should have just let him take us home."

"With Harry all banged up and nobody able to determine his condition? Vernon, I'm surprised at you!"

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. Then what happened?"

"I told the House-Elf that I wasn't going with it anywhere, and it said, '_Yes'em, Lady Ravenclaw_.' Now can you imagine that?"

Vernon tossed aside a turkey drumstick that he had finished picking the meat of, and gave a belch. "What's a Ravenclaw?"

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**AUTHOR's NoTeS:**

_Not the finest of chapters, but I'_ve had an encounter with whatever stomach bug is going around the family.


	6. Chapter 6

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts**

**Chapter 6**

**By Ordinaryguy2**

Albus Dumbledore spat out his lemon drop. With the mood he was in he needed something stronger than his favorite sweet.

Up from his chair, the old wizard went over to a cabinet. Rapping his knuckles on the middle shelf, he said the password '_scrumdiddlyumptious bar' _which then revealed the headmaster's liquor cabinet.He looked past the licorice wine, the chocolate brandy, peppermint schnapps, butterbeer, and the peanut brittle rum, in favor of old fashion firewhisky.

"There are some things my old friend Mr. Wonka just cannot beat," he mumbled to himself as he began to pour a rather deep glass of the potent drink.

He took a strong sip before setting it down on his desk while he began pacing about the room. "Damn Severus and his juvenile need to belittle Potter!"

"Then do something about the man already!" called out the portrait of Quinton Trimble, one of the former Headmaster of Hogwarts, kept to advice the current headmaster. "The man is the hemorrhoid on the Hogwarts educational system!"

Albus spun around. "Severus needs to be seen supporting the Pureblood extremists. He definitely needs to be seen going against Potter."

"With this farce of a tournament going on," spoke the portrait of Basil Fronsac, who was holding a book and wearing a pointed green hat with pins sticking out of the brim, "the whole school is going against the lad. You need to let up on the youngster."

"Basil's right," agreed Vindictus Veridan, another portrait of a former headmaster. "Let me spend some time with young Potter. I can at least help him hone his defense skills; I can even teach him some spells that I never put in any of my books."

Dumbledore shook his head in agitation. "No! Definitely not! No one is to teach Harry any more spells for the foreseeable future until I have an understanding of what is going on and how it all happened!"

Headmistress Eoessa Sakndenberg spoke up from her portrait. "Just go and ask the boy."

"And when he asked the inevitable questions, what then, how do I answer any of them?"

There was a snort of disdain from a portrait. Phineas Black was looking at him with more disgust than usual. "Do what you always do, man. Evade answering, tell him it's for his own good or some nonsense like you usually do."

Instead of answering right away, Dumbledore wearily walked back to his desk and took another drink from his glass. "I don't think that option is available to me anymore." He leaned tiredly against the desk with his arms supporting him. "Harry needs to be pliable; he need to turn to me for guidance, for direction and protection." With one hand he wiped wearily at his eyes. "He needed to be willing to die to destroy that piece of Voldemort's soul that was stuck in his cursed scar." He sighed heavily. "Or he did until his aunt somehow removed it from him."

"Potter's no longer contaminated?" he heard another portrait asked, though he didn't pay attention to which one it was.

"No. I checked and rechecked. Young Harry is clean from that vile thing."

"Then he never had to suffer all those things you allowed to happen to him, did he?" came the scathing tone of Dilys Derwent, a former healer and headmistress from the 1700's.

The old wizard's shoulders fell. "No, it appears I made a grave error."

"One of many you mean!" called out the painting of Headmistress Heliotrope Wilkins.

"Now, now, everyone calm down," Headmaster Everard could be heard saying. "Most of us made a point of disagreeing with Headmaster Dumbledore's actions concerning the Potter heir for a decade now. And we were right to do so. But as he has now seen the error of that line of thought, we are obliged to help him rectify his actions to the best of our ability."

There was grumbling among the portraits, but their position as portraits in Hogwarts meant they had to serve the current Headmaster whoever that may be.

Even in the state he was in now, Albus knew that honeyed words worked better than scorn. The trouble was his esteemed colleagues knew him too well so any such actions on his part would have to be genuine, and even then it would be suspect. There was also the fact that his portrait would one day be among them, and he didn't want to give them any reason to lash out at it in revenge.

"Albus?" The quiet voice of Headmistress Phyllida Spore took a moment to be heard. "Did I hear you right? You said Potter's aunt, Petunia Dursley, is here, in Hogwarts?"

Dumbledore took a deep gulp of the firewhiskey this time, belched out a fireball, and then nodded.

The loud outbreak of yelling began to fill his office making the old mage wince, before taking another sip of his drink. Then, needing to be heard, sent off a thunderclap with his wand. "Enough! For now the situation is this: Harry Potter no longer needs to let himself be killed now with the horcrux somehow removed. Evidently his aunt had the power to heal him all along, she just needed to come here first for Hogwarts to remove the many bindings that I had put on magical core back when she was a child."

"Of course she was not supposed to come here!" snapped the Walter Aragon portrait. "If a child steps onto the land of Hogwarts, the wards will automatically remove any magical bindings on a person's magical core so they can get used to their magic and control it."

Dumbledore nodded. "And because of that I had to use the dampening rods that Gellert had been experimenting with on young Harry, but even those have been removed somehow."

"Using those rods on young Potter and others was criminal!" barked Headmaster Dexter Fortescue. "How could you do something so evil?"

"It was for the Greater Good!" Albus declared.

Armando Dippet looked down at the Dumbledore from where his portrait hung. "Albus, I'm not even sure I know you anymore. These actions of yours – letting Sirius Black rot in Azkaban, placing the young Potter heir with relatives that his parents didn't agree to, making his relatives be abusive, making yourself his magical guardian, blocking the Potter's will, stealing money from the Potter vaults, making an illegal marriage contract." Dippet shook his head, shamed at the actions of his former protégé. "Can you even see how far you have fallen, Albus?"

"What was I supposed to do?" Dumbledore called out, slowly turning so that he could see each portrait. "I believed the boy had to die! There was no one else I trusted to be his magical guardian! Sirius would never have allowed what had to be done! And with Harry having to die, he had no use for the money! I needed it to block the initiatives of Malfoy and other purebloods or the laws they would put in place would devastate the Wizarding World! Plus, I have to pay my spies, and they don't come cheap! The Dumbledores have never had the money to pull that off! And as for the marriage contract, I'm trying to at least keep the Potter line alive!" He took another drink before slamming the glass down hard onto his desk. "I did it all for the Greater Good, but if this gets out, I'll be ruined. No one will listen to me. Voldemort will have no resistance when he returns." His hand rubbed against his forehead, trying to work away his growing headache.

"What are you going to do about Petunia Dusley?" came the stirring question from Headmistress Phyllida Spore. "She is the heir of Rowena Ravenclaw, an heir of one of the four founders stands within Hogwarts again. Something we all swore to ensure from ever happening again!"

Dumbledore winced, as he hoped they would have forgotten about that subject. They had been fortunate with Tom Riddle that neither they nor Riddle had known he was actually the heir of Slytherin until he neared graduating. Riddle hadn't ever realized the position he could have obtained.

"Thanks to my manipulations, Petunia has a strong dislike for magic, as does her husband. Hopefully that will be enough to have her leave and never return."

"What if the dampening rods on her, the ones that influence her, have been removed, too?" asked the painting of Ambrose Swott.

He sighed, letting his arms fall down in defeat. "I don't know. But if she does claim her seat as an heir to Ravenclaw, she still won't have much control."

"And if another heir appears?" remarked Headmaster Vulpus. "If they were to join together?"

"No, the only other known heir is Voldemort," Dumbledore pointed out. "I very much doubt that the two of them would join together. And while some believe the Potters to be related to Gryffindor, they were actually only stewards to that family. I was curious, so used some of young Harry's blood to conduct a genealogy exam. As for Hufflepuff, it is generally believed that the line is extinct with the death of Hepzibah Smith, no relation to the student Zacharias Smith. Only I have managed to find a few squib descendants that had moved to Canada."

"So you think you hold all the cards again, do you?" Phineas Black looked down his nose at the current Hogwarts headmaster. "How soon until you realize you are doing everything wrong again?"

Dumbledore, in a fit of rage, threw his drink at the portrait, coating it with firewhiskey.

"Strike a nerve, did I?" Phineas chuckled at the headmaster's burst of anger. "Hmm, interesting. I didn't know that a portrait could taste alcohol." The firewhiskey covering the portrait was quickly absorbed into it. "Ah, not the same as the elderberry wine I keep in my hipflask, but it was nice to try something different. I think the quality of firewhiskey may have actually been improved on since my day." He swayed a little to the side. "Potent, too," he said, as he burped a small fireball.

"I say, Albus, old boy," called Dippet. "Would you mind splashing some of that this way? You wouldn't believe how long it's been since I've had a nip."

Dumbledore stormed out of his office to the outcry of the wizards and witches of bygone days calling out for some alcohol. The last thing he heard was the roaring laughter of the Sorting Hat, and the calling for house-elves to bring drinks for everyone.

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Vernon drummed his knuckles on the table at a rapid pace. "So you are descended from one of the four people who built this place, right?"

Petunia drew in a deep, nervous breath before nodding. Now she would see how he would take this news. He abhorred magic and any connection to it just as she had. But things change, and whether she liked it or not she was now changed forever, too; the one big problem hanging over her was would Vernon be willing to change, also?

"So do you inherit this place? Is it yours?" His eyes were calculating as he looked around at the surroundings of the kitchen, the house-elves were tidying up after supper. The kitchen was his preferred place to be if he had to be here, and was the only place he felt he could unwind; the house-elves, even if they were freakier than his nephew, knew how to take orders, and each meal they made seemed to be better than the one before. Once it was realized that they were going to be spending the weekend, they had been assigned a guest suite in the castle, and while spacious, it still was made of stone walls, and had no television or radio, just old books.

"Well, I'm not really sure about all that," she responded hesitantly.

"Hmm, have to have some lawyers look into it then. Do you get anything else as the sole heir of this Ravenclaw dame?"

Petunia looked flustered. "I-I don't know. I guess I could ask Professor Flitwick tomorrow. He's the Head of House for Ravenclaw, and has been for a few decades now so he might know. Plus, he might have an idea on how to contact the Gringotts bank to see if they have a Ravenclaw vault. Filius is part Goblin so he might have some insights on finding if there is anything that can be claimed at Gringotts."

Vernon wiped his greasy hands and lips with a napkin before tossing it over his shoulder where a house-elf plucked it out of the air and sent it to be laundered. "Flitwick? He was that short freak that was fawning all over you, right?"

"Vernon, it's best to be polite to him. I've heard he's a Master Duelist before becoming a teacher here at Hogwarts. One of the best in Europe."

"That pipsqueak? Bah, he's just more a freak than the rest of them. I could knock him over with a good sneeze." He chuckled to himself at his moderate attempt at humor.

"As I've said, Filius is part Goblin, and I understand they can be particularly nasty when insulted." She sighed, dreading this conversation. "And that's another thing, dear. I don't think it's a good thing to keep going around calling them freaks."

"What, now that you've found another connection to them, I'm not allowed to say what I think?"

Her lip trembled a bit, and yet her eyes managed to harden. "I'm saying that everyone here carries wands around, and they all know how to use them in ways that we haven't even begun to fathom yet. Do you really want to make enemies around here? On the way over here I saw some boy trying to flirt with some girls who were not at all interested. When he wouldn't leave them alone, they hit him with a spell that left him laughing hysterically on the ground, helpless."

Her husband grunted in acknowledgment (_or maybe it was just a belch_). "That reminds me, did they ever catch whoever stuck us to the bleachers during that mess with the dragon?"

She sighed heavily knowing that Vernon was purposely redirecting. "No, Filius said it could have been anyone. Most likely it was a prank done before the dragon even got lose."

"What! So whoever left us unable to leave our seats just gets away with it, even though they left us to be eaten alive by a dragon?"

She folded her arms over her chest. "What do you want me to say? '_Yes, they will get away with it'_? Well whoever it was probably will! Get over it and help me deal with what we _can_ deal with!"

His face purpled as he stood there not saying anything. "Fine! Tell you what, you figure it all out and let me know about it on the weekend. Right now I have to figure a way to get home so I can get to work in the morning. One of the last things we need is for me to get fired from Grunnings."

"Pardon, Lady Ravenclaw," said one of the house-elves, partially covered with flour and various condiments. "Bristly hears Lady Ravenclaw's large husband needs to go to home? Bristly can take large husband. No problem!"

Vernon was about to yell at the house-elf, but saw the dessert tray he was carrying over for him to partake of. "Eh, yeah, you can get me home? Tonight? It's not that appar-whatever thing that that Snape bloke did to us. Felt like I was being squeezed to death."

Bristly shook his head, sending his ears and clouds of flour flying around him. "Bristly can make travel much more comfortable."

"How soon?" he asked as his hand took one of the brownies on the tray to stuff in his face.

"Bristly can do it now," said the cheerful creature, glad to be of help.

Vernon gave his wife a glance, but she said nothing, leaving it up to him whether he was going or not. "I suppose I should take Dudley back to Smelting, as well."

"Actually," Petunia interjected. "I would like to have Dudley here with me for the next couple of days to… keep me grounded, I guess. This is a lot to take in, and I know you have your work, it's just I don't want to be totally alone making these decisions. Though I guess I could ask Harry to help… if he is even talking to me."

Vernon began to purple again, as he worked on not choking on the moist brownie in his mouth. Problem was he knew she was just speaking her mind, and not attempting to manipulating him, even if just hearing that she might take advice from that freak of a nephew of hers brought up the bristles on his neck. No, he'd give her a week to think things through, then on Friday night he'd come back and help her figure out all the bloody inheritance that she had coming and how to get the most money out of it. Then she would see Vernon for the hardworking hero that he was.

"Fine, keep Dudley with you. Just don't let those young witches get their talons into him! I'll be back on the weekend and you can tell what you've worked out then. For all we know, you may own this bloody castle. Wouldn't that be a lark! We could kick the lot of them out on their broomsticks! Ha!"

Petunia noticed Bristly looking at Vernon aghast, and she shook her head. "Very well, I will see you on Friday or Saturday. Bristly would you please return my husband to 4 Privit Drive in Little Whinging?"

Vernon reached out and took the dessert tray. "I'll just take this with me so it doesn't go to waste."

Bristly gave Petunia another worried glance before taking ahold of Vernon's sleeve and popping away with him. In three seconds Bristly popped back to the Hogwarts kitchen and fell to his knees in front of Petunia. "Oh please, Lady Ravenclaw! Please, don't close the school!"

Petunia was shocked at the display the little creature was making. Even more so when she noticed that all the other house-elves in the kitchen were now staring at her with terrified looks.

"I didn't say that I was going to do that," she said awkwardly. Bending down she tried to get Bristly to at least look her in the eye. "But do you really like to stay down here in the kitchen working so hard. Surely, you'd like to be free to see the world."

Instead of comforting the house-elf, she had sent him scampering away. "No! No! Bristly is a good house-elf! Bristly has not done wrong! He swears he hasn't!"

As gently as she could, she held up a hand for him to hush. "I'm not understanding something, and it is evidently very relevant. What was it that I said that has upset you so?"

Bristly, now shaking, carefully looked up at the Ravenclaw descendant. "You-you says Bristly would be sent away."

"Not exactly what I meant. But why would that scare you so? The world isn't that scary of a place."

The house-elf just continued to stare at her with his large, forlorn eyes. Sighing, Petunia sat on the kitchen floor next to Bristly and leaned back against a table leg.

"Bristly, you may have noticed that I am rather unfamiliar with the Wizarding world. I am telling you this because I really have no clue why you are freaking out about leaving this place. I don't know what that means to you."

With trembling breath, Bristly sat up a little. "House-elves must be bonded to wizard family or magic place like Hogwarts where they can serve, otherwise…" He shivered at the very thought. "Otherwise, a unclaimed house-elf will be undone like Winky." He motioned over to a broom closet that opened up to a pathetic creature pouring out onto the kitchen floor knocking over several empty glass bottles in the process.

It was a flabbergasted Petunia that got up to see Winky, only for several other kitchen house-elves to beat her to it. The little people banished the bottles away while others helped to pick up their obviously inebriated brethren onto unsteady legs.

"What is wrong with him, er, her?" Being closer she could now tell the difference in gender. The other house-elves were visibly upset at the state Winky was in, but seemed unable to do anything about it.

"Winky has been given clothes," Bristly explained. "She has been dismissed from service to her master. She is disgraced. But it is not her fault. So castle house-elves try to help her, but it is no good. Very few house-elves are able to bond to place like Hogwarts after serving a wizarding family for a long time."

While she didn't understand everything that Bristly said, she understood enough to know it wasn't good. "What's going to happen to her?"

"With no one to bind to, she cannot access magic properly. So now Winky's magic core is crumbling. A very painful way to die."

"She'll die?" She looked down horrified as Bristly only nodded. "Isn't there anything anyone can do?"

Bristly hesitated, before looking up at her and nodding shyly. "Youse-" He paused to cleared his throat. "You could be binding Winky to yourself."

"That-that would work?" she asked, suddenly nervous of the idea. Vernon would definitely not approve. Looking down at the wobbly creature propped up against the doorframe of the broom closet made her think of a younger Harry who had been kept locked in the cupboard under the stairs. Guilt began to assail her, and she realized there was no way she could allow Winky just to wither away like that. And if Vernon asked she could always say that she had to take her in after seeing how much Vernon liked the cooking of the house-elves.

Stepping closer to the clueless inebriated house-elf, Petunia knelt down even as the other house-elves made way for her. "Winky?"

The groggy house-elf looked up at her for a moment before turning away. "Winky (_hic_) is not good enough to (_hic_) looka ponn lady."

Petunia looked back to Bristly who nervously nodded. Steeling herself, she reached out and took the poor house-elf's hand in her own. "Winky, if I were to take you on as my personal house-elf, would you stop all this drinking?"

Winky finally turned to look at Petunia, but could only stare at her with an open-mouthed gob-smacked expression, only interrupted by a few hiccups.

"Winky, did you hear me?"

"Winky thinks she is (_hic_) hearin' the butterbeer (_hic_) talkin'," the house-elf finally responded.

Petunia chuckled at that, remembering when her sister had brought back a bottle of butterbeer from school for her to try. It was the start of another fight thanks to her jealousy of her sister, but later, in private, she tried the butterbeer and found it very enjoyable. She had final apologized to Lily. Sadly that had been one of the last times they had had peace between them.

"It's not the butterbeer, Winky. My name is Petunia Dursley, and evidently I'm the heir of Ravenclaw. I need a good, _sober_, house-elf to help with the many nuances of the wizarding world as I've lived an entirely norm-, er, muggle life."

"But (_hic_) Winky is disgraced house-elf."

"Bristly says the reason you were let go wasn't really your fault."

Winky shook her head. "Old master Crouch was very (_hic_) unhappy."

Petunia frowned, but plodded on having had to convince a drunken Vernon to come up the stairs to go to bed on quite a few occasions. She was determined to help this poor, wretched creature. It was then she realized that she was also trying to atone for her treatment of Harry. "Winky, I would really like to have you as my house-elf."

Petunia looked over to Bristy for help only to discover the kitchen now filled with house-elves, leaving hardly any room for movement. Some of the creatures were even standing on the tables, chairs and countertops. Some even sat on the shelves. All watching what she was now doing.

She startled a second when Bristy placed his hands on hers and Winky's. "Just say, '_I take Winky as my house-elf_.' Magic will do the rest."

She blinked, thinking there had to be more to it than that. "You're sure?"

Bristy nodded, and gave an encouraging smile.

She could feel the fear in her heart, as she knew she was taking a defining step into the wizarding world. She took a calming breath, then stated out loud, "I take Winky as my house-elf."

She nearly jumped when her hand and Winky's lit up suddenly. There was a coursing of power that went from her hand and into Winky's. The light went from Winky's hand, down the house-elf's arm, where it flow down her spine, lighting up Winky with yellow light. After about five seconds, the light spread from her spine outward to cover the rest of her body.

"Ohhh!" Winky's eyes widened for a moment, then as the light faded, she preceded to fall back into the broom closet.

Petunia looked horrified, sure that she had somehow killed the poor house-elf. She definitely wasn't prepared for the sudden cheering from the kitchen packed with house-elves.

"She will be fine now," Bristy explained over the loud noise. "She will need to rest. Her core will need to stabilize and adjust to her new connection to you. She will awake in a day or two and be very happy. Maybe too happy. Try to be understanding of poor Winky. Be careful of what you say to her or she might try to do too much to please you."

He waved at two female house-elves who popped away with Winky. "They will watch over her until she wakes. You have done a very good thing today."

Petunia blushed, not having had a real deserving compliment in a long time.

Bristy waved the other house-elves away so that they could return to their duties. A small child house-elf, meanwhile, brought Petunia a cup of chilled pumpkin juice. She looked at the cup nervously for a moment, but not wanting to offend the child she took a sip. Surprisingly, she liked it.

"Hey, mum! You in here?"

"Dudley?" She got off the floor just as her son came in.

"Where's dad? I want to show you both something!" said the exuberant fourteen-year-old.

She dusted herself off, even though the kitchen floor of Hogwarts was immaculately clean. "Sorry, dear, he had to go home so he can head out to work in the morning. Tomorrow's Monday you know."

His face seemed to deflate a bit. "Oh, does that mean I have to head out to go to Smeltings?"

She shook her head. "I hope you don't mind. We made the decision without you, but I was planning to keep you here with me this week."

Petunia was a bit taken back by how her Dudley's face lit up at the prospect of staying at Hogwarts longer. "That's terrific! It's totally awesome here!"

"I'm…glad you like it, dear. Now what was it that you wanted to show me?"

"Oh yeah, Lavender and Parvati were showing me around, and the last place we went was to go check on the dragons before they are shipped back a dragon reserve."

"You went near the dragons?! After we saw what they could do in that arena?"

"We didn't actually make it that far," he said, embarrassed. "There's guards turning any sightseers away. But we did get to check out the arena."

"But there were no dragons there?"

"None, mum, I swear. But we did climb around on the rocks in the middle of the arena. You know, goofing off, pretending there was a dragon, stuff like that."

She decided to just nod to that. He was still a boy after all.

"And then I found it!"

"Found what, dear?"

Reaching behind him, he pulled something out of his back pocket. "Harry's wand! It was stuck between some of the rocks. Must have fallen during his flight around that humungous dragon on his broomstick. And look!"

He gave it a flick with his wrist, and a shower of blue sparks came out of the end of the wand.

Petunia was never so glad that Vernon wasn't around.

**AuThOr'S NoTeS**

_Hey there, readers._

_I brought out a number of new surprises. Hope they agree with everyone._

_I will be covering more of Petunia's family history later, as well as the conspiracy of the headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts._

_Vernon needed a break from Hogwarts as well as to get back to work but he will be back._

_I did consider having Dobby be the one to introduce Winky to Petunia, but I thought it would work better to have a house-elf that wasn't going to be biased against the Dursleys because of how they had treated Harry. As for the Petunia/Winky connection, well I wanted to show Petunia freeing herself from the manipulations of Dumbledore. And making her a better human being helps to do that._

_Thanks for reading._

_Please leave a review!_

_Thanks!_


	7. Chapter 7

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts**

**Chapter 7**

**By Ordinaryguy2**

He felt warm and cozy, which was a rare thing for Harry. There was still some residual pain from his battle with the dragon, but overall the potions he'd been given had reduced most of that. No, it was Harry's opinion that the reason he felt so comfortable was due mainly to having Hermione next to him while he healed. He'd have to remember to say thank you to Professor McGonagall for transfiguring Hermione's arm as both a bandage and pillow for his back. Maybe even get her a Christmas present.

Unfortunately, that comfortable moment was being interrupted.

"He's been listening the whole time!"

"No he hasn't!" hissed a softer voice.

"What?" groaned Harry.

"I told you he was listening!"

"He is now! Because you woke him!" Harry recognized Hermione's defensive tone. Regrettably he also recognized the other voice: his estranged first friend - Ron Weasley.

"What?" Harry yawned while wiping the grit out of his eyes. The first thing he saw was a fuzzy hand holding his glasses for him to put on. "Thanks."

Thankfully the first thing Harry saw was Hermione lying next to him with a book draped open over her chest. Giving her a smile, he then turned see the red faced Ron. "Now what were you waking me up for?"

"You know!" Ron accused, clearly flustered.

Harry let out a sigh. "Ron, I'm telling you again, I didn't put my name in the stupid Goblet of Fire."

"I'm not talking about that," he groused, now a little unsure and embarrassed.

Now Harry was once again confused. "What?"

When Ron didn't speak up, Harry turned to an embarrassed Hermione. "What's he on about?" he asked her.

Hermione had never turned so red in front of him before. "Um, he just… asked me to go to Hogsmeade next weekend."

Realization now set in Harry. Harry had asked her first, not even realizing that Ron might be interested in the sole female member of the so-called Golden Trio. "Oh," he said.

"'_Oh?_'," grumbled Ron. "That's all you have to say?"

"I really don't know what to say, Ron. I had no idea that you liked her, too. It's not like you've been talking to me much lately."

Ron mumbled something that they couldn't hear. Hermione rolled her eyes at his antics. She once again would have to take up the forced role of mediator if there was going to be any hope of them patching things up soon. "Ron, if you have something to say, then say it. Just make sure that it isn't something you would regret saying later," she warned.

He seemed a little angry at what she had said, but after a moment seemed to see the wisdom in her words. "I didn't think you liked her like that either," he admitted.

As both males took that in, Hermione reached over to the side table of their hospital bed to get a drink of water from a glass spelled to keep drinks cold. "Here, Harry, your voice is a bit scratchy."

"Thanks." He took the cup, taking a sip first then several gulps. "Guess I was thirsty."

"Not to worry," she said. "Madame Pomfrey says it's charmed to refill after a little while. It's from a runes school project made by one of the Ravenclaw prefects, a Penelope Clearwater."

"Clearwater?" Ron asked. "That's the bird that Percy was writing to all the time."

Hermione nodded, happy to have a different subject to move on to, and hopefully ease them into putting aside their differences. "'_Was_' is the correct term as Percy ended their relationship this summer when he went to work for the ministry. He told her that her status as a half-blood would hinder his chances of advancement in his career."

"Bloody hell!"

"Language, Ron," she gently reprimanded, relieved to see that he was also offended by Percy's actions.

"If mom ever found that out, Percy'd get a howler worse than the twins ever had. And she'd probably send it when he's at the ministry, too."

"Except that howler messages are banned from the ministry building," Hermione pointed out, unable not to as it was such a part of her nature. "They wouldn't be able to get any work done if they were being constantly harassed by howler complaints all the time."

"Then she'd just go down there and do it in person," Harry said with a laugh.

Hermione and Ron joined in, picturing Molly Weasley marching into the ministry building to give Percy the chewing out of the life time.

"And the best part," continued Hermione, "is that Penelope is now coming to the attention of masters of the field of charms and runes. This glass she created is already patented and shortly to be mass-distributed. And her being in a relationship with Percy would have only helped his career in the long run if he hadn't been so narrow-minded and a prat."

Ron nodded, and slowly he started to see some correlations between what Percy had done to Penelope in regards to how he'd turned on Harry when his name came out of the Goblet of Fire. "Yeah, I… Harry, I realized after seeing that dragon that there was no way you would have entered."

"Then why did you?"

The redhead sighed and let out a groan. "It's just, you know, you get everything: all the fame, and the attention, and you have all that money, and the girls are always looking at you."

"Stop right there."

Hermione wanted to scream, but didn't as it would bring Madame Pomfrey running and ejected before she could berate him. "You-you… stupid…Aaargh!" Her fight to keep from yelling was rather frightening. "How long have you known Harry?"

"Same as you. First year on the Hogwarts train." Ron knew he was about to be berated, but also knew he had better just stand there and let it be dished out or he'd regret it later.

"Then you should know that Harry despises his fame, as the thing he is famous for is something that he can't even remember, and part of that event included the murder of his parents. Would you really like to be famous if part of it had to do with a mass murderer killing off your parents who died trying to defend you? And as for the money – does Harry go around buying things all the time, or even fancy things? No, except for his school robes, his clothes all consist of oversized worn out clothes passed down from his fat cousin. And have you ever thought why he doesn't just get new clothes? It's because he's worried about his relatives trying to take all his money from him while he still has to live with them."

"I never told you that," Harry said quietly.

She put a comforting hand on his. "I know. I actually put that together yesterday. Being stuck in bed with you has given me time to think. I am just sorry I hadn't realized it before when it was so obvious all along."

"People see what they want to see," Harry said quietly.

"Well, then they need their eyes opened, too," she spoke firmly.

Ron, meanwhile had been thinking. There's no way he could be happy at being famous if it meant something bad happening to his family. And Hermione was right about Harry's money. Harry's hand-me-down clothes were far worse than anything he got after George and Fred had been through with them. "There's still the girls," he mumbled.

"Seriously, Ron!" She was starting to fume which was never a good sign. "Have you looked at Harry? He's short and way to skinny!"

"Hey!" came Harry's outcry.

"You know it's true," she said. "It's because you weren't fed properly until you came to Hogwarts. And even then you had to go back and spend the summers with the Dursleys who starved you all over again." She turned back to Ron. "As for you, Ron, you've never even gone hungry."

"I'm hungry all the time," Ron said to his defense.

"You've never experienced real hunger. The kind where you sometimes go days without food." Hermione shook her head. "No, your mother kept you well fed, and you grew because of it, taller and with wide shoulders. So you can believe me when I say that when some of the girls here at Hogwarts were looking at you and Harry, some of them were strictly checking you out."

"What? Are you serious?" he asked, looking at her dumbfounded.

"No, that's my godfather," Harry deadpanned.

Ron, however, was not interested in humor at the moment.  
"No, I'm serious! I want names! And what houses do they belong to! Do I have any classes with any of them? What year are they in? None of them are in Slytherin, are they?"

Now Harry cracked up laughing. Hermione breathed in relief. Things were finally starting to go back to normal. Well, as normal as things could be with a school full of teenagers in a magical castle. She had known full well that Ron hadn't thought about her that way until he saw her lying next to Harry. Their ginger-haired friend had always been quick to jealousy, which was an annoying trait to deal with. Fortunately, his stubborn side usually worked with them when they had to do daunting tasks like go after the Sorcerer's stone or go down into the Chamber of Secrets.

"Sorry, Ronald, but you are just going to have to open your eyes and figure out who's looking back."

"What is that? Is that one of those life statement things your mum sent you in the mail?"

Now it was her turn to laugh.

Harry took a moment to collect himself. "Um, Ron, how are things out there, you know, with the other students, with how the First Task turned out?"

The redhead awkwardly began picking at an empty chocolate frog box that had come from a sizable pile of goodies from well-wishers. "Well, there's always going to be some people unhappy with how things turned out."

Harry made a show of rolling his eyes. "Well, I wasn't going to allow myself to be immolated by a dragon just to make Draco happy."

Ron chuckled. "It's probably on his Christmas list."

"Boys," Hermione grumbled, shaking her head. "So what new gripes do people have against Harry now?"

He was now folding up the candy box, making it smaller and smaller. "Your rumble with the dragon kind of… had some consequences."

"How so?" Harry asked cautiously, feeling defensive.

"Well," he began, "that huge display of magic has everyone on edge, which is a good thing."

Harry's brow furrowed. "How is having everyone nervous about me a good thing?"

"You did do quite a bit of damage to the castle."

"Most of that was the dragon's fault!" exclaimed the fourth champion.

Ron nodded. "But she was following you," he pointed out. "The Ravenclaws haven't been able to return to their tower as it's still being repaired. McGonagall and Flitwick have transfigured and charmed several unused classrooms to be used as dorm rooms until the tower has been cleared as structurally sound."

Harry let out a groan. "Ok, anything else?"

"Um, yeah, uh, you see, when you went by the Owlery, it really startled the owls, so much so that they all took off in flight away from the dragon. But since some were in the way, some of the slower ones anyway, the dragon burned them up to clear the way."

Harry's voice caught in his throat before he finally was able to ask, "Hedwig?"

"Her? No, I've seen her about. She's usually roosting right outside the door sitting on the head of one of the gargoyles, but I didn't see her coming in today. She's probably out hunting now."

"No," interrupted Hermione. "I had a letter to send to my parents, and when I asked Madam Pomfrey to send it for me, Hedwig just flew right in quick as a wink. I hope you don't mind, Harry?"

Harry chuckled. "Not at all, the flight will do her some good. I hardly ever have anything for her to do since most everyone I would write to are right here at Hogwarts with me. Please, use her whenever you need."

"Thanks," she said, blushing slightly.

Harry caught the awkward look in Ron's face. "Did anyone we know lose an owl, or were they older school owls that died?"

Ron shifted uneasily. "There… were a few school owls. But some had belonged to students."

"Who?" Harry asked flatly.

"Well, Errol for one. He'd delivered another howler to the twins, and was resting in the Owlery before returning back to the Burrow." Ron tried shrugging it off. "He was old. I'd'a thought he'd have died on one of his flights long before now to tell the truth."

"I'm buying your parents a new owl," Harry stated, feeling guilty of the death of the old Weasley owl.

Ron waved the offer away. "No need, I've sent Pig to the Burrow to manage mum's mailing needs."

"But Pig is your owl, Ron," Harry argued.

"It's not like I use him much," he said nonchalantly. "Besides, I think it could be good for him to run errands for mum, straighten him up, you know?"

They continued talking, and Harry told Ron to let people known that he would pay for replacement owls for any that died. And to make an apology to the Ravenclaws for their inconvenience.

"Yeah, and Harry, I do have to warn you about one more thing," Ron said nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

"What's that?" he asked guardedly.

"When you crashed into the side of Hogwarts as a giant, you knocked several portraits off the wall."

"Great. I'm going to be glared at by all the portraits the rest of my years here."

"That's not the worst of it."

"Yeah? What else?"

"You managed to cause Filch's office to collapse."

Harry groaned. "Now he's going to have it out for me worse than usual, too."

"There's more."

Harry looked up at Ron's more than usual pale face. "Damn, it's Snape, isn't it?"

Ron nodded like he was a bobblehead. "Yeah, evidently you and the horntail hit the wall with more force than he had spelled his shelves to withstand. You caused half his potions and ingredients to come crashing down."

"Bloody hell!"

Harry turned to the teenage girl next to him. "Hermione, language!"

"But-but-but… we're lucky the potions classroom didn't explode the castle, or implode or melt part of it away or worse!"

Ron nodded. "Fortunately some of the other safety spells and wards had kicked in to prevent anything too catastrophic. As it is, potions has been canceled for the foreseeable future, which makes Harry a bit of a hero in some people's eyes, as the potions area is closed off while teams of Dwarves clear it out and make repairs."

"Dwarves?"

Ron nodded. "Mainly them. They're the ones working on Ravenclaw tower, too. I guess Dwarves were used in the original construction of Hogwarts. They have a sort of magic affinity with stones and such, you know?"

Hermione nodded. "I know, I read about it in _Hogwarts-"_

"_A History_," the other two completed before breaking down laughing.

Ron wiped a few tears from his eyes. "But the weirdest thing is what happened to Moaning Myrtle. She'd been riding around in the pipes when you hit the wall. When she came up, it was right in Snape's private lab. And all those potions – some still cooking, and all the ingredients, it did something to her when she came up through the floor."

Harry gave him a puzzled look. "But what could it do to her, she's a ghost?"

"But they're magical ingredients and potions, Harry," Hermione reminded.

"Exactly!" Ron practically shouted before Harry and Hermione shushed him, not wanting him to get kicked out of the hospital wing by Madam Pomfrey. "Anyway, she says she was floating up through all that gunk when she realized that it had covered her with a mostly transparent yellow, blue and green film over her body, and that she could now touch things."

"So… are you saying Myrtle is alive again?" Harry asked, not sure how to deal with the thought of that.

"What? No, no, she's just now has a… what did she call it… oh yeah, a Myrtle suit. She's been all over the castle in it. At first she had been terrified until she realized she could touch things and even feel them. But when she has it on she can't float, in fact, she's as solid as us."

"So she's practically alive?"

Ron paled. "No, it's more like an outer shell or garment. She tried eating something in the Great Hall but it just fell inside her, you know, like she was hollow. She was quite upset about it. Especially since she couldn't even taste it."

"That doesn't sound so bad," mentioned Hermione.

Ron began to look even more uncomfortable. "Well, it was dinner time, you see, and I mentioned that she was not very happy that the pudding and pumpkin juice were messing up the inside of her new Myrtle suit. Well, she came out of the suit the only way she knew how, through her mouth. Everyone was watching as she was making a scene. Anyway, it looked like she was throwing herself up."

Both Harry and Hermione looked a bit disgusted. "That doesn't sound very pleasant."

"Tell me about it. I could barely eat after seeing that," commented Ron. "But then it got worse."

"Worse how?"

"Myrtle had evidently been a big fan of pudding in her day. So today, even after eating some and realizing she had no taste, she kept eating, hoping that the taste would kick in, I guess."

"So it was a very full Myrtle suit?" surmised Hermione.

"Yeah, you could say that. Myrtle, since she could touch the suit of herself, began lifting it up by the legs so that the pudding and pumpkin juice would pour out of the eye, nose, ear and mouth opening of her suit."

"That-that sounds disgusting!"

"That's what everyone else was thinking, too." Ron gave a shiver. "But Myrtle wasn't done. She looked inside and could see a lot of pudding still in there so she-" He paused to take a drink from their glass of water. "Sorry, um, so she-she went and began pulling her suit inside out, you know, through the mouth."

Harry and Hermione could only stare, unable to respond.

"A couple of the Firsties ran out of the Hall screaming and crying. Some other people began to get sick all over. It was definitely the worst dinner ever."

"So…" Hermione tried to think of something, anything at that point. "Did the professors get involved?"

"Oddly enough no. It was Harry's aunt that took Myrtle in hand… more or less."

"Aunt Petunia?" Harry tried to think how his aunt and the fifty years dead ghost of a teenage girl would get along. "What… I mean, how…?"

"Evidently even your aunt had heard of Myrtle and her new skin of clothes, so she suggested that they have the house-elves launder it for her. Myrtle never looked so happy before, not even when she's recounting the story of how she died."

"That's… unusual." Harry gave a shake of his head. "It's like I don't know my aunt at all."

Hermione covered her mouth in surprise. "I forgot that you don't know!"

"Don't know what?"

"That your aunt, she found some of those rods that were affecting you in her and your cousin Dudley! They were different types, but Professor McGonagall says those particular rods were used to modify behavior and emotions."

He sat thunderstruck, absorbing that information. "I guess I never really knew them at all then."

"And your aunt just feels horrible about it," Hermione said, placing her normal hand on his shoulder, then brought him in for a hug.

Ron coughed, feeling rather awkward about the display of affection of his two closest friends. "Hey, guys, I'm a little out of the loop here. What rods are you talking about?"

Harry reluctantly let Hermione go. "Well, Ron, it's quite a story, and it's one we still don't have all the answers to, so bear with us, okay? I first found out about them right before the First Task. You see, McGonagall was leading me to…"

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**Riddle House,**

**Little Hangleton**

Bartemius Crouch Junior stayed in his kneeling position as his Lord considered the information that he'd brought from Hogwarts. It was becoming more and more uncomfortable to be in that position as the constant use of polyjuice was causing Alastor Moody's phantom limb leg pain to carry over to his true form.

"You've had no chance to do an examination on the boy yourself?" spoke the small, withered baby-like thing that had been created to temporarily house the spirit of Lord Voldemort.

"No, my lord. Pomfrey leaves little to chance for anyone other than friends to visit the boy. And while that would not stop me, Dumbledore has placed several house-elves to guard over the boy."

"You say Potter was leaking magic from out of his back in several places?"

"Four or five, but I can't say for sure." He licked his lips nervously. "My lord, some of the teachers were talking… They think that with the rupture of his core that Potter might now be a squib."

Voldemort's vile infant form shook in a series of fits so great that Barty called for Pettigrew from the other room.

"Master?" Pettigrew fell to his knees in front of the thing that was Voldemort.

Their lord managed to settle down and look at his two followers. "That was amusing," he wheezed. It took both men a few moments to realize that the fit they thought Voldemort was having had actually been laughter.

They waited quietly, waiting until they would be told what to do.

"As for your '_concerns_' for Potter, I'm sure he will be fine. At least until I am done with him."

Barty, feeling the need to say something, spoke. "My lord, perhaps, with his weakened state, I should steal away with him and bring him to you now, so that you can be restored."

Voldemort gestured weakly with his hands. "There is a reason I had you get Potter into the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Barty. Preparing for the contest will force him to push his magic, forcing him to grow and become more powerful. Then on the night of the last Task, when his blood is used as part of the ritual to give me back a more fitting body, I will also gain his increased power to add to what I already have, making me even more powerful than I had been before."

Barty's warped mind danced around for some way to win his master's approval. "My lord, technically, as Moody, I'm not supposed to help any of the Champions, as they are to train themselves. Shall I offer my services anyway and train him on the sly?"

The thing that was Voldemort considered this for a moment. "No, it might bring too much interest in you and jeopardize your position at Hogwarts. Instead, delegate others to help if possible. Also, have spell books and training manuals be sent anonymously to him. That Granger girl should be able to get him working on those."

"Yes, my lord, I think I know several books to start them out on."

"Master," Pettigrew mewled. "Perhaps Snape could be of service. He has a strong hatred for Potter."

"Enough, Wormtail!" came the quick rebuke. "Severus and my other followers are not to be contacted until I am restored to my former glory. Otherwise, some may get foolish ideas of replacing me."

"I would burn the bones out of their bodies if they even thought such a thing!" Barty cried out, spittle flying from him mouth and nearly extinguishing one of the nearby candles.

"I will hold you to that, Barty," the sick, evil looking baby gave a sinister smile of glee. "Now, go back to Hogwarts, Barty. Make sure that young Potter has the help that he needs to grow strong."

Barty rose and bowed, then as he turned he gave Pettigrew a smirk, and then was out the door.

"Wormtail," called Voldemort. "I have need of you."

"Yes, master," Pettigrew called out gleefully, hoping for a chance to outshine Barty.

"I need to be changed. I'm having that awful diarrhea again."

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**AUTHOR's NoTeS:**

_Ron has patched things up with him in Harry. Yes, he was stupid, and a bit of a jealous jerk (I think all of us have had a time or two when we did that, but it was something we could grow out of) but I wanted to show him, if not maturing, at least trying to make things right between him and Harry. And as for his interest in Hermione, I think Ron first noticed Hermione when she was at the ball with Krum. This time he sees Hermione laying on a hospital bed next to Harry. It's a stupid jealousy moment, and that's why he asked her out. Also not a very bright moment to do it either._

_The Myrtle suit was entirely my idea. At least I don't think anyone else has ever used that idea._

_I wanted to address the idea of why Riddle had Harry go through the whole Tri-Wizard thing instead of just having him kidnapped at Hogsmeade or something. I think building up his magical core is a very possible plot idea._

_Well that's all,_

_Read and Review, please, And Thanks._


	8. Chapter 8

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts**

**Chapter 8**

**By Ordinaryguy2**

"It's nice to be on my feet again," Hermione remarked as they walked away from the hospital wing of Hogwarts and made their way to the Great Hall. "Hopefully we can go back to our classes soon."

"Sorry you weren't able to go to classes for the last couple of days," Harry said in a sorrowful tone.

"Oh, Harry, no! I didn't mean-" Then she caught the tell-tale smile he was wearing. "Harry! Behave."

"Hermione, I'm the son of a Marauder. I have to prank people at least a little."

Holding her head high, she gave a sniff of distain. "Then maybe you should find a more deserving target than the girl with whom you've asked to go on a date with to Hogsmeade."

He grinned at her teasing. "You're right, and I do apologize."

They continued walking down the hall, side by side. They were still attached by Hermione's enlarged transformed hand that was acting as a bandage to Harry's back. The specialists, mostly Unspeakables from the Department of Mysteries, would see about removing her hand in two more days, depending on how Harry's injuries reacted.

With Harry recovering, and Hermione attached, they hadn't had to deal with showering or going to the bathroom. Magic used by Madam Pomfrey vanished the urine and feces while still in the body, thus sparing them some embarrassment. She also used a body cleaning spell on them to keep their bodies fresh, though Harry and Hermione both admitted that as soon as they were separated they were each going to take a long, hot shower.

"So…" Harry began, "Any idea what this special event is that is big enough for Madam Pomfrey to allow us to leave the hospital wing?"

"No idea. I'm just glad that Madam Pomfrey still allowed to go without her. As it was I feel bad leaving her behind to deal with that sudden influx of first year Slytherins all with unique aliments. I swear George and Fred are going to seriously injure someone one of these days with their potion pranks."

"You know they test their prank products out on themselves before trying it on anyone else, right?"

"That's not the point," she stated gruffly. "What if they had tried so many different potions on themselves that it doesn't work the same as it would on a regular person? Or what if the person they test it on has a bad reaction? They could get arrested or sued!"

"Hermione, it may not look like it with the way they joke about and the grades they get, but they are really on their way to being potions masters."

"Then why do they not do better in Potions?"

Harry chuckled. "You are probably one of the top two or three in our year in Potions, look at all the grief you get from Snape for just being better than his Snakes. Can you really blame them for purposely fudging their work in class? Besides, they probably think of it as an elaborate prank on Snape, and maybe their mother, too. Once they graduate Hogwarts, they can show what they are really capable of. And if anyone asks how they could be this good at potions while doing miserably at Hogwarts, all they have to do is blame Snape. It'll have Snape gnashing his teeth when he finally hears about it."

She fumed as she took this in. "He really is an intolerable professor."

"Agreed," he said with a chuckle, leaning in to her.

"Well, it seems Scarhead has decided to leave his home away from home in the hospital wing."

Harry automatically grit his teeth at the sound of Draco's arrogant voice. Seeing him step around the corner with his two min-trolls on either side of him was not a surprise to Harry. What he hadn't been prepared for was when his cousin Dudley followed out after them.

"We've become chums with your cousin Dudley." Malfoy's grin took on a more feral aspect. "I especially loved what he told us about your bedroom for the first decade staying at his place."

Harry's eyes shot to Dudley. But what Harry saw in his cousin's face was more embarrassment and uncertainty instead of the usual cruel hostility. Harry hadn't seen his cousin since that day in the stadium when someone had placed a sticking charm on Dudley and his parents making them stuck to their seats during the whole dragon fiasco. His aunt had come at visit them at their hospital bed and go on and on about whatever new magical discovery she had come across. She had always made some excuse for why Dudley didn't feel comfortable visiting, to which Harry figured came down to the fact Dudley was scared of him because he had managed to turn into a weird giant creature that could tussle with a dragon.

Draco continued on talking, enjoying shoveling the humiliation onto his school rival, and enjoyed it even more as it was being done in front of Harry's mudblood girlfriend. "Crabbe and Goyle especially liked hearing of one of Dudley's favorite games. Harry Hunting I think he called it." Behind him, as if on cue, both Crabbe and Goyle broke out in evil smirks.

"Malfoy, what do you think you are doing here?" Hermione called out defensively.

"I'm not talking to you, mudblood!" Draco snarled.

"Draco." Harry's voice sounded cold and hard. "Were you even at the First Task? Do you even know what I did during the event? I fought tooth and nail with that dragon, and got the egg from her nest. Now are you really sure you want to be calling my girlfriend that name, or do I have to do something to you that I really want to do."

Draco's face faltered, but only for a moment. "Nice try, Potty. Evidently you don't know that word has gotten out that your rumble with the Horntail has ruptured you core, leaving you a squib."

"What's a squib?" They all glanced back at Dudley who became uncomfortable with all eyes on him. "What? I'm new to all this, so I don't know!"

"Means he can't do magic anymore," Goyle supplied Dudley with the answer.

"Oh," was all Dudley said in response, though he looked rather sad.

"That hasn't been proven," Hermione snapped angrily.

"Then have the great and powerful Potter show us," Draco said smugly.

"He can't," she answered before Harry could. "He's been told not to do magic for a few more days."

Draco tisked mockingly. "Too bad, and here we are in an empty hallway with everyone else getting ready for a surprise event in the Great Hall. It's just perfect to do magic with no interruptions."

Realization suddenly came to Hermione. "You gave the Weasley twin products to those Firsties! You wanted them to keep Madam Pomfrey too busy to take Harry and I to the Hall." She pulled out her wand only for Draco to disarm her with a spell from his ready wand.

"Draco, I'm warning you," Harry growled. He knew his positioning was not the best. He didn't have his wand, and wasn't sure if he could use magic even if he did. There was also the problem of having Hermione's arm still enlarged and attached to his back. Even if he could transform back into his basilisk/phoenix form, he had no idea what that would do to her arm. And then there was his magical core to think of. Was it healed? Would it even function properly? Would using magic while still healing injure his core irreparably?

Draco moved closer now that there was no danger. "You know, I think I'd like to see a demonstration of what Harry Hunting all entailed. Dudley here says it helped him to become a star boxer at the school he's attending."

Harry tensed, preparing to use his magic like he had against the dragon: focusing on intent. He wasn't sure what it might do to him. Maybe nothing, or it might shred whatever was left of his magical core.

"No."

That soft answer made everyone turn to the source, one Dudley Dursley.

"What'd'ya mean no?" asked Crabbe, who seemed rather confused. No one told Draco no. Except Potter, which is why Draco had set this up.

"I mean no, I'm not going to do it!" Dudley said more forcefully.

Draco was fuming. He'd been willing to overlook Dudley's upbringing since he was somehow an heir to one of the Founders. It had been a great bonus to learn of Potter's treatment growing up, including Dudley's contribution to keeping Potter downtrodden. But, even so, he was going to have to start taking orders or there would be hell to pay. "Now listen here, Dursley!"

Draco went to jab Dudley in the chest with his wand, only Dudley had slapped the wand away where it skittered down the hallway. The larger boy then socked Draco hard in the jaw causing him to crash into a suit of armor that then collapsed on top of him.

Crabbe and Goyle were only still for a moment before rushing forward to deal with Malfoy's attacker.

Not thinking, Harry called out, "Dudley! Behind you!"

Dudley turned and caught Goyle in the breadbasket, knocking the wind out of him. With Goyle out of it for the moment, Dudley was free to deal with Crabbe. Vincent Crabbe quickly realized that he was not going to have the easy brawny victory he was used to, so like a good wizard he went for his wand. However, in his haste to do so, Crabbe found himself having difficulties getting his wand out of his pocket. He glanced up just in time to see Dudley's fist come crashing down on him, striking him right between the eyes. Turning back to Gregory Goyle, Dudley saw that the Slytherin had decided to try the same thing that Crabbe had done and go for his wand. He hadn't had the same difficulty in pulling his wand out, but that didn't mean he had caught his breath yet. Seeing he only had a moment, Dudley kicked Goyle so hard in the groin, that he could hear Harry gasp in sympathy behind him. Following that up with a blow to the side of his head, and Goyle was down and out.

"Wow, Dud, I see Smeltings has done wonders in your boxing training."

Dudley was looking down on the three boys who had recently befriended him. He still wasn't sure what to make of it all, but one thing he did know was that he didn't want to be like them anymore. For some reason he was changing, or growing up, or something. His mother had told him that he might find himself making some different choices than he had been, and that was somehow related to those strange rods she had taken out of him. But all in all, he didn't understand it all, and that frustrated him. And when he was frustrated, he liked to hit things. Only now he felt that wasn't the answer to everything that it had been.

"Big D, you all right?" he said, hoping that the use of the nickname Dudley had once been trying to get everyone to use would get his attention.

Dudley sniffed. "Don't tell mum about this, alright?"

Harry frowned. "I won't have to. The shining knight Draco there is the biggest whinier in the castle. As soon as he wakes, he'll give his battle cry, '_When my father hears about this…_' and he'll run off crying for his daddy."

Dudley let out a weak chuckle. "Tell me you're kidding."

"I wish that he was," Hermione said.

Draco groaned as he disengaged himself from the battered suit of armor, loudly knocking the pieces of metal off of him, letting it clang loudly off the castle floor. "When I tell my father about this-"

His rant was interrupted by the gales of laughter from Harry, Hermione and even Dudley. Draco fumed even more, but then noticed that both of his goons had also been taken out of commission. "You've attacked the scion of three pure-blood families!" he said with surprise. "I'm going to call the aurors on you! You'll be sure to get time in Azkaban for that!"

"You were here to attack us!" countered Harry. Anger rose within him as he pointed his finger at his brat-like nemesis. "If anyone is going to be taken away by aurors, it'll be you, you little ferret!"

Draco's face barely had time to register surprise before suddenly disappearing, leaving a pile of clothes behind on the castle floor.

"Harry?" asked Hermione

"Uh, yeah?"

"Did you just do something to Draco?"

Harry was looking down at his finger which was giving off a light glow. "I guess so. Guess that means I'm not a squib either."

Before anyone else could say anything, a blond ferret crawled out of the pile of clothes Draco had left behind.

Dudley stumbled against the wall as his legs suddenly felt weak. "You turned him into some kind of rodent?"

All eyes were on the ferret as it looked up at all of them, then with a frightened chirp, it took off down the hallway in the direction of the Great Hall.

"I may have changed his body into one," Harry said, watching the ferret go, knowing that Ron was going to want to know all the details later. "But he's the one that chooses to act like one."

Dudley scratched his right butt cheek, and he considered things. "Am I gonna be able to patch things up with him later? Or is this one of those things that won't go away?"

Harry and Hermione walked up to Dudley where Harry put his hand on Dudley's shoulder. "Welcome to the club of Lifetime Enemies of Draco Malfoy."

Dudley's brows furrowed. "So that's a no?"

Hermione decided to try explain some of the facts of life in the British magical world. "Dudley, you should know that Malfoy, Goyle and Crabbe are all children of a group that call themselves Death Eaters, the servants of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Dudley snorted at that. "Really? They won't say his name?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, even Hagrid got the shivers just telling me Voldemort's name."

Dudley glanced down the hall nervously for any sign of Hagrid. Not seeing the half-giant, he regarded them saying, "Voldemort? That doesn't sound very scary."

Harry nodded. "The Dark Lord did quite a lot to make them fear him name. I think in the non-magical side of the world they call it '_conditioning_'. Voldemort's also the wizard that killed my parents. Somehow I survived when he tried to kill me. People in the Wizarding world credit the fact that I survived the killing curse to me, but I think it was actually the result of something my mum did."

"Oh." Dudley scratched at his nose. He'd been told a different version of how the Potters had died, a story that involved alcohol and reckless driving in a speeding car, but that had been before Hogwarts had come to be a part of Harry's life. He half-heartedly wondered what other things that he had been told about Harry were not necessarily so. His mother would probably tell him now if he asked. It would probably be less awkward that asking Harry about it.

Hermione took a glance at Harry before deciding to give Dudley what she considered some much needed advice. "I know we don't know each other," she began. "But you should know that Malfoy and his group, they are very prejudice against anyone who is not a pure-blood wizard, and, well, everyone else."

"What's a pure-blood?"

She looked at him with a bit of surprise. She thought for sure that he had to know at least that much. When Harry didn't go into explaining it, then she did. "Well, pure-bloods have a long family line of only wizards, going back ten generations; Draco is one of those. A half-blood, such as Harry and evidently yourself, have at least one muggle in your recent ancestry. A muggle-born, like me, is the first witch or wizard in their family line."

His face was a bit scrunched up as if he were thinking about something really hard.

"Big D?" Harry asked, getting a bit concerned.

Dudley looked up with a frown. "So then if Draco doesn't like muggle and half-bloods, then he didn't really want to be my friend?"

Harry let out a heavy sigh. "No, he was just using you to get to me. He really hates me, as you have just seen."

Dudley slowly nodded.

"Big D." Harry led them down the hall to where Hermione's wand had landed. "Listen, these Death Eaters I mentioned; they are like magical terrorists. They kill and torture people because they like it."

Dudley stared at him, with his mouth hanging open, flabbergasted. "But-but, then why don't the magic cops do something about them."

"Aurors, Dud, the magic cops are called aurors," he explained to his cousin. "And some have tried, some have even died trying. But the Death Eaters hide behind their titles and pass out bribes. All in all, it's very frustrating for the normal honest witch or wizard who just want what's right."

Hermione brushed some dust off her wand before tucking it safely away. "We really should be going if we are going to make it to this special event. I hope it hasn't already started."

Dudley's eyes widened with alarm. "Oh! We better get going! Mum will royally ticked if we aren't there on time."

The unlikely three moved down the hall at a quickened pace in silence unto Dudley spoke. "Harry?"

"Yeah, Dud?"

"Sorry about tellin' Malfoy about stuff, you know, 'bout how you grew up and all."

Harry's lips tightened, and only thought to say something when Hermione have him a slight jostle with the hand attached to his back. "Well, most people in the magical world believe I grew up being waited on hand and foot, like Draco was. A few even think I'm some spoiled brat who has to be noticed at all times."

Dudley looked at Harry, then shook his head. "They'd have to be an idiot to think that."

Harry gave a laugh. "I know, right." It felt weird, but Harry was starting to feel that he could actually get to like his cousin now that he didn't have those control rods manipulating how he acted.

"Oh hey!" Dudley twisted around as he pulled something out of his pocket. "Look! Mum took me to see this weird old guy who sells wands!"

"Ollivander?" supplied Hermione.

"Yeah, I think so, anyway look!" He held out the wand like it was majestic. "He said it's made of elm and has a griffin feather!"

Harry almost stumbled in surprise. Everyday seemed to get weirder and weirder lately. More so than normal at any rate. First, the Dursleys come to Hogwarts due to Snape trying to cause Harry pain. Then, Harry's aunt could evidently see invisible creatures which led to her removing something called dampening rods from his body and something malicious from the scar on his forehead. He then went on to the First Task and preformed incredible feats of magic only for his magical core to rupture. Sometime after that, his aunt Petunia is revealed to be the lost heir of Rowena Ravenclaw. How this could all be happening was something that Harry found to be mindboggling. And now Dudley had a wand! Dudley, who Harry last remembered, was terrified at magic. Harry was sure that the whole world must be mad. Stark raving mad.

**AUTHOR's NoTeS:**

_I was going to have this chapter include the next scene in the Great Hall, but it would get too long so I'm sending this part out now while I work on the rest._

_I know this chapter didn't have as big a surprise as the others, but there will be a couple of surprises in the Great Hall! _


	9. Chapter 9

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts**

**chapter 9**

**By Ordinaryguy2**

The Great Hall was packed as Harry, Hermione and Dudley entered. The visiting students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons were mostly still staying at the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables, though some had broken off to sit with new friends at the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables.

"Lav!"

Dudley's outcry had the effect of having Harry and Hermione turn to each other and silently mouthed '_Lav?_'.

It was quite a surprise when Lavender Brown jumped up excitedly to run to meet Dudley, who embraced her and swung her in a circle.

"Is this really happening, Hermione?" Harry asked quietly. "Because I am just not sure any more."

Hermione nodded. "I think I know how you feel."

Dudley quickly waved them over to where there were some open seats near where Lavender had been sitting. Parvati Patil moved over so that Hermione and Harry could sit down. Harry moved cautiously with Hermione next to him as neither had had much of a chance to practice their coordination together as Madam Pomfrey had kept them on strict bed rest.

"I see you two have grown close," Parvati spoke teasingly to Hermione. "Anything you want to tell your roommates?"

"Harry's been a perfect gentleman," Hermione said politely. But knowing her two gossip queen dorm mates, she knew she had to give them something or they would never let her alone. "Though I can tell you that he had asked me to go with him to Hogsmeade on a date."

Parvati and Lavender squealed with delight at this tidbit of news. Girls from every house turned their way, every one of them knowing that the two gossips had something golden to share later.

Harry, meanwhile, had noticed that something had caught Hermione's eye. Following her gaze he saw to where Luna Lovegood was having a conversation with a very happy ghost: Moaning Myrtle. Myrtle had a mostly transparent film over her entire body that bore splotches of yellow, blue and green. It only took Harry and Hermione a moment to realize that the filmy material over the ghost was the Myrtle suit Ron had told them about.

"Well… she seems happy," Hermione finally said.

"Yeah."

He finally shook his head and looked away. Glancing down the table, he saw Ron sitting at the far end, looking upset about something.

"Uh oh. Something is up with Ron," groaned Harry. He was tired of the ginger's melodramas. He'd already had Ron avoid him for over a month this school year, and they had only just patched up their friendship; Harry didn't want to have to deal with another Ron upset over things beyond Harry's control.

"Don't worry," said one of the Weasley twins who were just a little down the table across from him.

"Ronald is just being a git because-" continued the other twin.

"-a certain young lady-"

"-has shown interests-"

"elsewhere," finished the twins together.

Hermione groaned. "I thought after our talk in the hospital wing that he wasn't upset with Harry and I being together."

Fred and George shook their heads in unison. "Our pretty bookworm seems to think high and mighty of herself, Gred."

"After landing the Boy-Who-Lived, who wouldn't be, Forge?"

"True, dear brother" agreed the other twin. "But we were talking about Ron now."

The first twin sighed. "If we have to, Forge." He then leaned in to give a conspiratorial secret whisper that wasn't at all that secret or much of a whisper. "It seems that once Ronnie-kins noticed a particular witch paying someone quite a bit of attention, he became overwhelmed with jealousy."

"Shocking, really," said the other twin, as he yawned in an overly bored manner.

Hermione roller her eyes at the twins antics. "So who is-"

A sudden outburst of giggling on the other side of Harry drew her attention. There, as plain as day, was the explanation to her question. Sitting at the table next to them, Lavender was giggling while flirting with Harry's cousin, Dudley.

"Ohhhh!" Hermione now concluded, trying and failing to understand the dynamics in that relationship.

"What's up with the blond ferret?" Lee Jordan asked from down the table.

Harry shrugged. "We had a bit of a run in with Draco on our way here. You know, the usual crap you can expect for him."

"What? No, I mean the blond ferret at the High Table."

More and more students were taking notice of the commotion going on there. Several of the teachers were trying to spell or smash a very lively ferret rushing to and fro around the drinks and candles. Hagrid made a long grab sideways that almost broke the table, as well as nearly crushing Professor Flitwick. Professor Trelawney gave a shriek of surprise, splashing her drink all over the table in front of her where an overturned candle set it ablaze. Professor Sinistra nearly stabbed the large blond rodent with a wicked looking forked dagger.

It was Snape who paralyzed the ferret as it headed towards him. With a look of disdain, the potions master picked the creature up by it's tail.

Professor McGonagall studied the ferret with scorn. "What in the world made it come up here?"

Snapes eyes shot over to the Gryffindor table in search of two redheaded troublemakers. "Another tasteless prank, I believe."

Igor Karkaroff scoffed. "You allow such things, Dumbledore? No wonder with the lack of discipline I see in regards to your students."

Dumbledore chuckled at the Durmstrang headmaster. "Oh, I believe the youth going amok every now and then can liven things up."

Hagrid brushed the spilt drinks off of his coat as he walked over, managing to send a wink to Madame Maxime, the headmistress of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. "Here, there, professor. I'll take that off your hands. I know some hippogriffs that would like a taste of that morsel if you're done with it."

Snape sneered. "I certainly have no use for it in any of my current potions I'm making."

Before he could toss the ferret to the half-giant, a loud voice made itself heard. "You don't want to do that, professor."

Snape's beady eyes locked onto Harry who was helping Hermione to her feet. "This is your doing, isn't it, Potter. One hundred points from-"

"Perhaps we should hear what he has to say first, hmm, Severus?" Minerva McGonagall gave him a cold, hard look that told Snape more than he wanted to about what she thought about him.

Dumbledore stretched out a hand to Harry, gesturing for him to speak.

Harry glanced at Hermione, who nodded for him to go on. Letting out a heavy sigh, Harry began. "When Hermione and I left the hospital wing, we were beset upon by Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle."

"Utter rubbish!" barked Snape.

"Regardless of how you want to look at it, that's what it was! And at the end I evidently did some accidental magic that turned Malfoy into a ferret."

The room filled with hushed whispers. Evidently quite a few people had believed that with his magical core having ruptured that he was now a squib. Some had even placed bets on the matter. Bets that the Weasley twins were now gleefully collecting. At the far end of the High Table, Professor Moody fell off his chair laughing so hard.

Severus Snape was now eyeing the ferret he was holding by the tail with new interest. Placing it on the table, he unfroze it. The ferret jumped to it's feet and began squeaking a high pitched rant that no one in the room could understand, but many believe some of the squeaks could have been translated to say '_When my father hears about this…!_'

Gritting his teeth, Snape spoke the most basic reverting spell at the rodent that was his godson. It instantly became apparent that there was something that he hadn't taken into consideration. Draco was now standing on top of the High Table naked as the day he was born. And to make matters worse Draco was still ranting so much he hadn't noticed his lack of clothing. "-and you were just going to feed me to a beast or use me as potion ingredients! My mother won't-"

Laughter filled the hall so suddenly that no one could hear Draco, let alone explain to him that he didn't have anything on. Snape moved to grab his wrist to pull him off the table, but Draco jumped back and ended up falling off the table, creating even more laughter.

As Draco was picking himself off the floor, he realized his lack of apparel, and went into flight mode. Grabbing two plates off of the teachers' table, Draco held one in front of his groin and the other over his butt as he ran down the Great Hall towards relative safety in the Slytherin dorms.

Harry could barely hold himself and Hermione up as they were laughing so hard. He was happy to note that Ron was rolling on the floor laughing as Draco sped past him.

"Potter!" roared Snape as he stormed around the table.

"Hey, you did that, not me!" Harry pointed out, as he wiped away some tears from laughing so hard.

As he rounded the High Table and jumped down from the platform, Snape drew his wand, pointing it's red glowing end directly at Harry.

Harry, instantly sober, pulled Hermione in back of him, making himself a human shield if the potions master actually tried any spells.

Professor McGonagall had had quite enough of Snape's actions. As the headmaster seemed to be willing to not take any actions himself, she would!

A beam of light flew true from Minerva's wand striking the potions master, and transfiguring his body into that of a small squeaky bat that seemed to be having a nasty tantrum. Amidst the sudden cheers of the majority of the student body, Professor McGonagall could be heard yelling to the flying rodent. "Professor Snape, I will not tolerate this behavior against a student! Your animosity will end or your career here will!"

Albus Dumbledore placed a hand on his deputy's shoulder. "Perhaps it would be better to-"

"It would have been better if it had been you who had stopped Snape as he charged down at Potter with his wand drawn; but you did nothing! Mr. Potter didn't even have a wand!"

Annoyance began to show on the headmaster's face. "I fully trust Severus-"

"Well the rest of us plainly don't! His hostility towards students not of his own house is legendary, and that is nothing compared to his enmity towards Mr. Potter!"

Dumbledore knew he was going to need another headache potion, and soon. He'd been busy all week working with Amelia Bones on dealing with outing the Daily Prophet for using compulsion spells hidden in the pages of their newspaper. Both he and Amelia were certain that Lucius Malfoy was behind it, but proving it seemed to be impossible. The workers of the press and the editor were under magical vows so as to not be able to reveal who all was involved. To make matters worse, one of the press operators had been able to destroy the arithmancy code and some of the rune design they had been using to influence the many readers. Over all it was a win, but without the full rune display and the code they could only prove some of their charges. They also could not prove who the mastermind or masterminds were or, even more frustrating, what their agenda was. He did admit that being able to have the method to alter readers opinions would have been a great boon to have for the Greater Good and the side of the Light.

On top of that he had also had to handle a dispute in his position as Supreme Mugwump when some Tibetan wizarding tribes were found to be poaching yetis from a magical preserve. The potion ingredients collected from yetis were banned due to the fact that the yeti population had dropped so low. While some naturalists were attempting to help the yeti numbers grow again, local wizarding tribes who had made their living from hunting yetis were refusing to acknowledge this ban and had forged connections with several international black markets to get money. And, though he could never prove it, Dumbledore was sure that one of those black market groups were the goblins of Gringotts Wizarding Bank. There was definitely a connection with the fearsome Dracul clan in Eastern Europe.

As it was he'd been gone from Hogwarts for several days only returning tonight to find Minerva still hostile with him and with Severus. "Minerva, it is not good for the students to see the staff fighting among themselves."

"Then why have you not done something about him before now?"

Her cold glare bit into him, surprising him with her growing animosity toward the school's potion master. Perhaps a new subtle loyalty potion keyed for her to be more accepting of his judgment. He hated resorting to such tactics, especially to someone he considered a friend, but he really couldn't have the deputy headmistress question his reasons over and over, and in public, too. No, that would not do at all. Severus had to stay at his post as potions master and head of Slytherin. He had to be seen as loyal to the Death Eaters and Voltemort. If not, then his ability to spy in those camps is practically impossible.

"Let us talk of this later. Perhaps after breakfast tomorrow. I believe you have a free period then." He left the invitation open there for her, knowing that all the other teachers had classes at that time, so it would just be the two of them. He hated taking actions with such an old friend. But it was for the Greater Good.

"Very well, Albus," she reluctantly agreed, hoping she had made her point.

He tilted his head down slightly as if conspiring with her. "I think things would progress better tonight if you restored Severus back to his original form."

"Better?" She gave him a raised eyebrow. "I highly doubt it. But insist that you reign him in immediately. I will not have him ruining the special event that is prepared for tonight."

"What special event is that?" he asked, mentally going through things in his head to see if he had overlooked something.

She managed to shake her head and give a dramatic sigh at the same time. "Sometimes I wonder if you read any of the messages that I owl to you when you are attending your other duties." With a flick of her wand, the bat fluttering madly in front of the High Table suddenly reverted into that of Hogwart's resident potions master. Remarkably, Snape crashed onto the floor in almost the exact spot his nephew had landed when he fell off the High Table.

Just as Snape jumped to his feet to screech further at McGonagall, Dumbledore's wand shot out a silencing spell at him. Snape started to rant, even in silence, but soon thought better of it, and stormed off to his rooms, his robes billowing behind him ominously.

"You know he's going to be unbearable for weeks, right?" Minerva asked the older wizard.

"Yes, I suppose," admitted Dumbledore, not looking forward to the weeks ahead. "But now tell me what this special event is about."

She gave him a coy look. "How about instead I show you?" That said she rose to her feet and moved over to the podium.

Casting a spell to make herself better heard, she cleared her throat politely. "Please, students, settle down. Please, everyone, return to your seats." She gave everyone a few moments to sit back down and stop talking to their neighbors before beginning. "First, I hope our guests from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons will forgive the unusual theatrics that have been displayed tonight."

Several students snickered before Minerva realized that she should not have used the word '_displayed_' after young Malfoy had run streaking down the Great Hall.

She cleared her throat. "Recently it has been revealed to us that one of the heirs of the Founders of Hogwarts is with us once more!"

Albus Dumbledore started to stand, planning to stop whatever it was Minerva had planned, at least until he knew what it was. His eyes then caught the far door opening, and in came the beautifully robed Petunia Dursley on the arm of the beaming Minister Cornelius Fudge, who stopped their progress just long enough to have a picture taken together. "What have you done, Minerva," Albus groaned quietly to himself.

Minerva continued on in her speech. "While it is still not entirely known why Mrs. Petunia Dursley nee Evans has not shown signs of magic before her arrival at Hogwarts during the First Task, she did start to display magical abilities, some considered rare to this day."

She let that tidbit of information sink in as it would let the idea of Petunia rejoining the Wizarding world be a great deal more accepting if she had a rare magical ability.

"As some of you may know by now, Petunia is not only a descendant of Rowena Ravenclaw, but she is also the aunt of one of our Tri-Wizard champions, Mr. Harry Potter!"

As Petunia and Cornelius came down the aisle, Petunia drug the minister over to meet her nephew. Harry blushed at the attention they were getting, and quickly stated that he and the minister had already met.

The minister then had them go on up to the High Table where Pomona Sprout had places set up for them at the end of the table.

"But now we have one more surprise!" McGonagall went on. "Just as Petunia Dursley nee Evans started to display magical abilities, so did her son, Dudley. And even though he is no longer eleven years old, Petunia had enrolled him to begin his training here at Hogwarts alongside his cousin, Harry Potter."

Harry and Hermione sat their stunned. But when the clapping started, Harry joined in clapping, too, with a great deal of enthusiasm. Dudley, where he sat next to Lavender, blushed profusely, and even ducked down a bit at the sudden attention.

"Professor McGonagall?" Albus Dumbledore stood up with his mind working furiously. How the hell this had come to play was beyond him! Damn Snape for bringing _**them**_ here, and damn McGonagall for making this mess so much worse! "I'm afraid the young Mr. Dursley does not have the knowledge of those in his age group. He'd have to be tutored heavily to even catch up at this rate. While I'm glad he has found his connection to magic," he lied. "He is just not able to attend here at this time." While he was glad that he no longer had to allow Harry Potter to die now that the horcrux was no longer attached to him, there was no way he could allow Petunia or her son to gain a foothold in Hogwarts.

Minerva glanced back with a twitch in her eye, a sure warning sign that he was involving himself in something that she was determined to protect. "Arrangements for his tutelage have already been handled, Headmaster. The matter is settled."

"Minerva, please understand that-"

"The boy will be sorted, Headmaster! Hogwarts wants it, and is in fact quite eager for the heir of one of the Founders to call this place home again! She stirs even now!"

Dumbledore spotted the new speaker being carried in by Filch on a pillow. Dumbledore gnashed his teeth, but knew he could not argue against the Sorting Hat. No headmaster or headmistress could. Though they did not advertise that bit of information. It's one of the reasons that no one could argue about where they were sorted: the Sorting Hat always had final say in matters.

Steeling his face so as to not show his inner turmoil, Dumbledore sat back down and preceded to watch carefully as events unfolded.

Minerva, meanwhile, made her way down from the podium where a stool stood. Looking over to the Gryffindor table she held her hand out. "Dursley, Dudley," she recited, as she usually called name during a Sorting.

Dudley froze for a moment, glancing up at where his mother sat at the High Table first, then over to Harry, and then finally to Lavender.

"It'll be fine." She gave him a quick kiss on his cheek. "All you have to do is put on the Sorting Hat and it'll decide where you will go, kay? Oh, and please, try not to go to Slytherin. Not that I'm worried about that." She gave him a nervous grin.

"But-but… it's talking!" he said excitedly.

"And I don't like waiting!" called the Sorting Hat. "Usually I have time to compose a song before the next sorting. So far I was going with '_We either all work together or we will all die alone._' It should grab people attention. Unfortunately, quite a few are just too stubborn for me to hope that they will change their ways. But it is in my mandate to try." The hat let out an exasperated sigh. "Well, let's see what you have to offer, shall we?"

Dudley sat down nervously on the stool, and his eyes followed the Sorting Hat as McGonagall lifted it from it's pillow and placed it on the teen's head.

"Hmm," the Hat said as it fell over Dudley's eyes (_not that it really went over his eyes, it just seemed like it as the Hat began examining his mind_). "Hasn't been used much. Or at least not used well. I can see how those filthy rods you had been subjected to had influenced you. Disgusting things, but fortunately they have not done any permanent damage. In fact, you are already breaking away from those manipulations. Yes, it won't be easy, but you can become a much better person than you had been."

Sitting there in the dark, Dudley thought about what the strange magic hat was talking about. He had been acting rather different. Some of the things he had done, like when Lavender had showed him the inside of a broom closet, he figured was just normal for a boy and girl to do. Kissing turned out to be better than he had ever thought it could be. And he had to wonder why he had never tried it before. Then there was how he was acting around his cousin, Harry. He no longer wanted to insult him just because he was there. He didn't want to hit him either, which was definitely new for him. When he had come across Draco in the hall, he'd hung out with him and Crabbe and Goyle as it felt more familiar than anything else in the castle. Sure, Draco and his two friends were not as cool as Piers Polkiss, but they had been very eager to hear about how Harry grew up. And like a fool, Dudley had told everything, thinking that it would make him cool in their eyes.

"Ah! The regret of hindsight," murmured the Sorting Hat into his ear.

"You-you can see what I'm thinking?" he said, stunned.

"Most definitely, but you needn't worry. I'm not allowed to tell anything I've discovered unless there is something detrimental that needs dealing with."

"Detrimental?" Dudley asked confused by the big word.

"Something that is harmful to you, and… oh, dear, yes, I actually have found something here. Oh, I do apologize but I am going to have to reveal something I found here."

**AUTHOR's NoTeS:**

_Sorry for the cliffhanger. Well, maybe not really. _

_I wanted to show Ron as still having problems with jealousy. I can remember at least two times as a teenager where I found out someone liked someone else and I became instantly jealous of him. Fortunately, I grew up. And I suspect Ron will, too._

_I am also trying to show Dudley's slow rise to growing up, too. Fortunately for Dudley, I chose to remove rods that had been influencing him rather than let him snog a dementor for a while._

_As for Draco…some people are just hopeless. Snape, too._

_Now I have heard from quite a few people stating how original the idea of having the Dursleys come to Hogwarts was. Thank you. At that point I began to wonder how other writers may have handled that story idea, so I recently wrote up a fanfic challenge to see if anyone would take up the challenge. Unfortunately, I have very little experience with forems so I may have messed up the attempt. But I do have a copy of what I tried to post right below. So if you or you think one of you friends might want to try their version of this story idea, please read the challenge below and have at it! _

I recently began a fanfiction story I called '_The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts_'. I have been enjoying it and a number of people have remarked on it's originality. That got me to thinking about how other authors might handle that story. So it you are interested in the challenge, I'll lay out a few rules.

1. Snape brings the Dursleys to see Harry compete in the Tri-Wizard tournament.

2. Petunia (or maybe Vernon) turns out to be related to one of the Founders of Hogwarts (you choose which one).

3. Petunia (or maybe Vernon) and Dudley turns out to have had their magical core blocked as a child, but upon stepping onto Hogwarts the blocks have been released.

4. Dumbledore responsible for keeping Dursleys ignorant of connection to Hogwarts.

5. Harry in a relationship with Hermione. And Dudley starting a relationship with Lavender (or someone else)

6. Dudley is to attend Hogwarts and is sorted.

7. No smut please. I'm reading this to my little kids after all.

Hope you take up the challenge and enjoy it.

Ordinaryguy2


	10. Chapter 10

**The Day The Dursleys Came To Hogwarts**

By Ordinaryguy2

**Chapter 10**

**In The Great Hall**

"Would someone call Madam Pomfrey, please?" asked the Sorting Hat in a more gruffly tone than usual. "I think what I have found here needs to be documented."

A chair at the High Table was tossed away as Petunia Dursley raced over to where her sweet Duddy-kins sat on a stool with the Sorting Hat on his head. "What wrong with my little baby?"

"Mum?" Dudley said in a scared voice. "I can't see anything with this hat over my eyes."

Petunia gave a room-sucking gasp as she looked into her son's sightless eyes. "My baby's blind!" she cried, clutching her only child tight to her chest.

McGonagoll was instantly at the poor woman's side. "Calm yourself, my dear. He isn't really blind." She glared down with a look of reproach at the hat. "Tell her," she insisted.

The tattered animate headpiece seemed to roll it's beady eyes at the hysterical mother's dramatic antics. "It's true, Lady Ravenclaw. I will usually turn off a child's optic senses immediately as I am set on their head so that the child and I can more properly focus on what makes them who they are and thus into what house they should be place," the hat said matter-of-factly. "As soon as I am removed from the child's head, their sight is available to them again."

Murmuring could be heard among the students who had not realized that that had actually happened to them during their own sorting, though quite a few Ravenclaws bragged that they already knew that.

Meanwhile, Petunia sniffed gratefully as she clutched her son tight to her chest. Only when she looked down did she see that the Sorting Hat was trying to twist away from her bosom, even if it was covered by her robe. "Oh!" She stepped back, embarrassed at having been in such a position with that thing.

"_Oh_, indeed," responded the ragged hat crustily, as it straightened itself. "As I was trying to explain, young Dursley's eyes are not the problem. No, the problem he has is rather worse, and will be rather more difficult to correct."

"Worse?" Petunia said, her heart jumping into her throat. "Worse… than blindness?"

Dumbledore had made his way around the table with Minister Fudge following quickly after him. "Perhaps if the Sorting Hat would enlighten us to what he is implying?" the headmaster interjected. Secretly he was delighted at the hint of a possible malady that may force Petunia to take Dudley out of Hogwarts, and thus solve some of him major problems.

"I would rather wait for Madam Pomfrey before divulging this situation," answered the animated hat. "Where is she anyway?"

"We know that answer," responded Hermione, with her good hand in the air. "She had a sudden influx of students that needed various magical treatments just before the feast."

"Draco had arranged it," continued Harry. "He wanted to get me and Hermione alone in the hall."

"Harry, we can't prove that," Hermione reminded him.

Harry wasn't having any of it, though. "Hermione, he boasted about it right to our faces!"

She frowned, not liking the fact that they were arguing. "But he didn't actually say that he had sent the Slytherin first years to Madam Pomfrey. He can easily deny it, leading to the conclusion that he was taking advantage of running into us on our own."

The Sorting Hat had heard more than enough however. "Humph, well, then perhaps a silencing spell to promote some privacy, hmm? Then I can divulge the problem I have found to his mother."

"May Hermione and I be included?" asked Harry, who was a bit nervous. Odd as it was, he was beginning to like the new version of Dudley and his aunt Petunia. Whatever those rods were that had been influencing their personality and who knows what else, he hoped they could return them to whoever had used them on his relatives and ram them down their throats. Let them be the breeding ground for Wrackspurts and see how they like it!

Dumbledore was about to refuse Harry's request, but had not taken into account Petunia rapidly giving her approval. It was beginning to irk him that more and more people seemed to want to get her approval instead of his. True, most of these matters were regarding Petunia's family, but he was still headmaster, and he needed to have unquestionable authority over Harry and Hogwarts or who knows what level of chaos would be unsuspectingly put upon all of them.

Professor McGonagall already had her wand out and after a few waves of it quickly sent up a wide invisible circle around them. "There, that should keep any of the other students from listening in to what the Hat has to tell us. Oh, and Petunia, your sister Lily called that the '_Cone of Silence_' spell. Evidently, the nickname was taken from a muggle thing that she found very amusing."

Petunia, however, was not amused, even if she was grateful to hear another tidbit about her sister's years in the castle. It was something she could cherish later; for the right now, she had her little Duddie-kins to look after. "Please, just let me know what is wrong with my Dudley!"

"Very well, Lady Ravenclaw," stated the Sorting Hat, bowing the best that he could for being a hat. "Are you sure I can reveal this news with those currently within the privacy wards that Professor McGonagall has put around us."

She was just about to say yes when she took a look around at the cluster about them. Professor Flitwick had joined their number as well as the defense professor who always made her feel uncomfortable, 'Mad-Eye' Moody. Minister Fudge seemed to give a reassuring nod, but she couldn't be sure. As for Dumbledore, she wanted to send him away, but knew that as this had to do with a student –or at least potential student– he would waste their time arguing that he needed to be there. "I-I guess so," she finally said, unsure if it would be polite to ask the defense professor to leave.

The Sorting Hat gave another nod before beginning. "As I sifted through his memories, I found some problems with some of the brain functions. Having a target to work with, I concentrated my efforts examining all the memories corresponding to that damage, and was dismayed when I discovered what had happened to young Mr. Dursley and the lengths someone went to to cover it up."

Albus Dumbledore, ill at ease at what the Sorting Hat was bringing forth, let his hand slip slowly down to his wand pocket, running scenarios of what to do when the Hat accused him of somehow injuring the boy's brain when applying the control rods to him as a young child. He didn't know how the control rods could have caused any damage to the boy's brain, but he had to admit to himself that not everything was known about what they did to someone. He could tell that Minerva was almost certain of his guilt. And the way Harry was eyeing him, he was, too. Dumbledore grit his teeth as all he could do was watch his many years of planning fall apart in front of him.

"It happened a little over two months before Harry had been left on your doorstep the night after his parents had sacrificed their lives for his."

"Harry was left on a doorstep?" exclaimed Minister Fudge.

Dumbledore managed to not let out a groan.

"Yes, in the middle of the night, during the first part of November," Petunia threw out. "We didn't even discover him until the morning. We wouldn't have even known whose child it was if it wasn't for the note that had been left in his basket."

Fudge sputtered as he tried to find some words to exclaim what he thought of such a thing. Several of the others looked the same, though Professor McGonagall looked down in shame for her part in the event, even if she had been against it all along. Hermione was hugging Harry tighter than she ever had before. It was getting so bad that he was actually starting to have trouble breathing.

Dumbledore was definitely going to have to obliviate that information from Fudge before the Minister could spread that fact around. Several of the others, too. But at the moment he was more interested in what the Sorting Hat was talking about since Albus hadn't began placing the various control rods in Dudley until he was nearly four.

"It we could please stay on subject for now. I am rather interested in what the Hat has to stay about the damage he has found."

Several people gave him the evil eye, but all silently agreed that this was one topic they couldn't postpone.

The Hat glared at him, knowing full well that the headmaster was diverting their attention on him to keep from answering some rather revealing questions.

Instead, the Hat turned to Mrs. Dursley. "Do you remember the time you had a bad case of the flu around the time of young Mr. Dursley's first birthday?"

"Not very well, I'm afraid," she answered. "I was rather out of it."

"Hmm, yes, so '_out of it_', as you put it, that your husband, Mr. Vernon Dursley, had to take some time off from his work to help take of you and your son."

Petunia frowned but nodded. "That is how I remember it, but how did that affect my Dudley?"

The Sorting Hat sat upon Dudley's head, trying to determine the best way to tell this story. "There is no easy way to tell this, so I shall cover the events as they happened. It won't be the smoothest of explanations, but you will have all the relevant data that you need. It all began on the evening of August the 21st, the second night of Vernon staying at home to aid you in feeling better, not that he was much help to you, was he?"

She blushed at the straightforwardness of the animated cloth hat. "To tell the truth I really don't remember much of that time. I do remember Vernon being very sweet and caring for Dudley well I slept."

The Sorting Hat studied her for a moment before continuing. "There is a reason for that, and we will get to that in a little bit, if you will bear with me."

Her quick nod had the Hat continuing on. "Now on that night, your son was particularly miserable as he was cutting one of his teeth."

"Cutting his teeth?" Harry couldn't help asking.

"Means one of his baby teeth were coming in," Hermione whispered to him. "It's rather painful to the gum line and babies are generally very irritable during that period."

"Oh," Harry managed to reply, filing that information away. There were lots of little things that were normal to know about in regular family life, but since Harry grew up at the Dursleys, he had not come into contact with the majority of them. Even so, he still had the rest of his life to learn about the different aspects of life. The warm connection of Hermione to his back, as well as her leaning into his side, gave him hope that he could still have a good life ahead of him

The Hat continued on, but only after given Harry and Hermione a hard look. "It was nearly half past two in the morning. Your son had been crying for an hour straight at that point and your husband couldn't wake you to take care of him."

Petunia blushed. "I think…, that may have been after I had been vomiting most of the day. I remember being very weak, collapsing in bed with a large emesis bowl."

"Hmm, yes," said the Hat. "I can hear the noises of you in the bathroom from Dudley's memories."

"What? Really? But I don't remember any of that." Dudley suddenly said. His head jerked back in surprise. "Oh wow! I hear it now! Mom, wow, sounds like you were in _The Exorcist_!"

Petunia's looked in surprise. "Is the Hat showing you that?"

"Not really seeing it, but I can sure hear it!"

Petunia blushed until she remembered something. "Just when did you ever see _The Exorcist_, young man?"

"Ah, um, well…"

"As interesting as this family dialog is," interrupted the Sorting Hat, "I would rather like to finish what I was about to do, if you don't mind."

Petunia nodded. "Very well, but don't think this is going to be forgotten, Dudley."

Dudley shifted uncomfortably on the stool, even as the Sorting Hat continued with his account. "What I was about to reveal was that when your husband began to descend the stairs with your son, the younger Dursley puked all over his father."

"Oh yuck! I could taste that!"

The Hat chuckled. "Fortunately for me I don't have taste buds."

Dudley groaned. "Well, I do, and if you don't stop, you'll have me doing a repeat performance. And all I have for a container is the hat on my head."

Harry smirked at the surprise on the Hat's face. He also noted Professor Flitwick chuckling to himself. Even 'Mad-Eye' Moody seemed to have been amused.

"Anyway," continued the Sorting Hat, "Vernon was disgusted and dropped his son from the top of the stairs where he tumbled down the stairs."

Petunia gasped, fell to her knees, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick came quickly to her side. "My baby." She said it so quietly that none but McGonagall heard it.

"Dad dropped me?" Dudley was finally heard saying.

"I-I didn't know." Big, fat tears were rolling down her cheek. McGonagall, having already had one crying session with Mrs. Dursley, quickly transformed a quill into a large handkerchief. "Why didn't he tell me?"

It was Harry that provided the most likely answer. "In all my years in your home, Aunt Petunia, one of the things that I learned earliest was that Vernon doesn't like taking the blame for anything."

Petunia sniffed, wiping her face with the handkerchief. "I must be such a bad mother! How did I not notice something like my baby being injured from falling down the stairs?"

"That wasn't your fault, Lady Ravenclaw," spoke the Hat. "Your dear husband kept you drugged with a large amount of medications while waiting for your son to recover. He seemed afraid of what might be implied if anyone saw your son in his damaged condition."

"Drugged? But all I had in the house was over-the-counter cold medication."

The Sorting Hat looked to become even more grumpy looking than normal. "Your son became conscious off and on over the next few days, but one of the things he overheard was your husband conspiring with your sister-in-law Marge to use some of the medications she uses to knock dogs out."

"They gave me dog medication? That on top of the cold medicine that I was already taking? They could have killed me!"

"Yes," agreed the Sorting Hat. "It's my opinion that the fact that you are a witch was what saved you."

"Oh, he is in so much trouble!" Petunia growled, climbing back to her feet, anger beginning to fuel her.

"Excuse me," Hermione said, with a slightly raised hand. "But the Hat said that the fall had done something to Dudley; he hadn't said what that was."

"Very good. Five points to Gryffindor," the Sorting Hat said with a nod in her direction.

"You can give house points?" the young witch exclaimed with surprise.

The Hat shot out a laugh. "You'd be surprised at all that I can do!"

"Please." Petunia placed a hand on either side of the hat's face. "Just tell me what happened to my baby."

"I'm not a baby," Dudley muttered quietly, frustrated at all this attention and lack of answers.

"Very well then. I will do so if you will just keep your hands to yourself."

Dudley's mother pulled back her hands as if they were burned, but stayed standing right in front of the ragged headpiece, refusing to move until she heard everything.

"Your son bounced several times down the stairs, striking his head badly," informed the Hat. "The resulting concussion was only the beginning of his head trauma. The pressure in his brain had built to such a point that some of his higher functions were damaged."

"My… baby… was…brain-damaged?"

"After you recovered, did you notice him having extreme tantrums, or difficulty thinking? Even zoning out for periods of time?" All eyes turned to Hermione. "Those are some of the signs of a minor brain injury."

Seeing the clueless look in the eyes of those of the Wizarding world, Hermione went on to explain. "Some of those with brain injuries have impulsive anger issues, meaning that they will blow up about something at a moment's notice. They can also exhibit frustration due to cognitive impairment, especially in regards to memory, which would make studying as a student very difficult. Sometimes, even confusion over what's going on right in front of them. Other signs of a brain injury could be threatening or attacking people that anger them, verbally and/or physically."

Dudley's mother shook her head. "My Dudley would never-"

"Mum!" Dudley reached out for her. "That describes me all across the board." When she began to shake her head in denial, he gave a heavy sigh and with a grumble simply said, "Then just ask Harry."

Harry had been totally caught off guard when Dudley told his mother to ask him. He looked at her teary eyes, and then back to Dudley. "I hate to say it but the description fits."

Petunia clenched her fists tightly; her rising risk of a panic attack was just barely being kept in check by the desperate need to do something to help her boy. "You have a magical Hospital wing here, where Harry was recovering; wouldn't they have a magic potion or something that can heal my Dudley?"

"That is not necessarily so." Dumbledore stroked his beard as if in deep contemplation. In reality he already knew the answer, but he so liked to put on a good show. "Head traumas are risky things in both the Muggle and Wizarding world. Wizards and witches direct our magic through our mind. When the mind is damaged, it could cause catastrophe when used in concert with out magic."

"So you are saying I can't do magic safety?"

All eyes were on Dudley now, but they could still hear the devastating news that Dumbledore was delivering. "I'm afraid not, my boy."

Petunia nearly tackled her son. Even so, she did manage to knock the Sorting Hat off Dudley's head.

Professor Flitwick automatically bent down and retrieved the Hat from the floor of the Great Hall. "I'm sure she didn't mean to do that," he squeaked. "However, I was thinking, you said we would be surprised at the things you could do. I was wondering if one of those things you do might be healing head traumas?"

The rip in the Hat that made up it's smile widened greatly. "That is the type of thinking that keeps the house of Ravenclaw famous for it's wisdom!"

"You can help my boy?"

"Easy now, Lady Ravenclaw. Let me explain what I could do before you go all blubbery on me again."

Petunia stiffened, saying nothing, only moving to tighten her grip on her son. Dudley was a bit exasperated, too. Finding out your dad dropped you as a baby that led to long-term effects will do that. The other being that now that he could see again, he could see all the students watching the melodrama unfolding before them even if they couldn't hear them. Lavender, who Dudley had hoped would be his girlfriend, seemed to be terrified of what was happening, as well as exasperated by not knowing what it all meant.

"I can promote some low-level healing in that area of his brain. In addition, I can aid him to learn new reactions to events so that he doesn't revert to just lashing out in anger. But the best thing and possibly the most controversial, is that I can try stimulate certain areas of his brain, especially those areas that I would be trying to heal, to encourage higher brain functions. In other words, bring his intelligence up to the level of his peers. He would still have to learn everything on his own; this would just enable him to be able to do the mental processing."

Dumbledore shook his head in the saddest manner he could muster. "Oh dear, now see that will be a problem. Several laws have been put in place by the Wizengamot ruling against using magic to manipulate a person's brain. Too many times people have either tried to influence what someone else does, or sometimes trying to give themselves greater intellect, and the end results were almost always most tragic."

"But this would help my son!" She turned to Minister Fudge who seemed to weighing the matter in his own mind.

"I'm sorry, Petunia. My hands are tied in this manner."

"Actually," began the Sorting Hat, "That ruling doesn't affect me, as I am a device created by the Founders for that very purpose. I was, I believe the term is, grandfathered in. All I need is the permission of two heirs of the Founders, or one heir and the current headmaster or headmistress. That is one of the safeguards put in place by the Founders."

"Then we can do it!" Petunia said excitedly, and kissed the top of her son's head. "I'm one of the heirs, and Dumbledore is-"

The words seemed to stick in her throat as the headmaster of Hogwarts just stood there shaking his head sadly. "I'm afraid that I believe there is still too great a danger as to how this would affect Mr. Dursley. No, I think we should table this decision, at least for now, until we can consult some specialists on the matter."

"Poppycock!" barked the Hat. "I'm the best hope this young man has, and you know it!"

The headmaster tutted sympathetically. "I have strong reservations again mind magic. I always have been since a tragedy in my family when I was younger. No, I cannot abide by this. Some other way must be available, or none at all. And as Mr. Dursley has made it this far in life in his diminished mental state, I doubt he will have a problem with the rest of his life, though it will have to be in the muggle world. Otherwise, magic could have an untold effect on him."

McGonagall began arguing with Dumbledore along with Petunia and Fudge. Moody stayed at the edge of the group, greatly amused.

Frustrated, Harry led Hermione over to where Professor Flitwick stood with the Sorting Hat. The two had been conversing quietly, only ceasing when the teenagers neared.

"Hat, is there anything we can do so that you can try to help Dudley?" Harry asked.

The Sorting Hat and the half-Goblin professor shared a look. "There is one way," admitted the Hat. "But you may not be totally happy with the results."

"Is it dangerous?" Hermione asked, with a hint of nervousness. She was feeling very protective of him, and did not want to subject him to any other dangers. As it was she knew he had to face the Second Task in February, and she was going to do everything she could to make sure he didn't face any other dangers till then. Even if that was the least she could do.

"Maybe in a social sense, but you already are not one that cares greatly about public opinion, are you?"

Harry stared down at the Hat. Then glanced over at his aunt who looked about ready to pull the wizened old wizard's beard out. "I'll do whatever it takes."

The Sorting Hat groaned. Glancing up at Hermione, the Hat directed the next comment to her. "You really need to teach him not to make such blatant statements. Fortunately, it would be necessarily bad this time, but others could really set him up if he isn't careful."

Hermione blushed, but nodded.

The Hat studied Harry again. "Are you sure about this?"

Harry hesitated, but then nodded.

"Very well." There was a flare of magic that dismissed the silence wards around them. There was another flare that muted those arguing with the headmaster.

"On this day," said the Sorting Hat, whose voice was now amplified loud enough to be heard by all those in the Great Hall, "I declare Harry Potter to be the Heir of Slytherin by the Rite of Conquest, having defeated the Dark Lord no less than three times!"

Harry's eyes nearly fell out of his head. "What-what did you do?"

In a much quieter tone, the Hat answered. "You said you'd do whatever it took. Well, I need another heir to heal your cousin. So you're it."

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**AUTHOR's NoTeS:**

_Well, I'm here at the end of another chapter. This time my big reveal was why Dudley was the way he was. And it didn't have everything to do with Dumbledore's control rods. I know that making Harry the Heir of Slytherin is not necessary a new concept, but I hope I at least made it unique enough to be interesting for everyone. _

_Thanks for reading, now please review!_

_Thanks again!_


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